


Never Let Me Go

by Ozxiii



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, First chapter is slow but it'll all make sense by the end of it, Heavy Angst, Slow Burn, WARNING: lots of angst ahead, adrienette - Freeform, but i promise the pay off by the end of the fic is worth it, by the way this is, i edited my tags because someone told me they were deceptive, i will finish this fic im too far in to quit now, im so sorry theres more angst than i thought there would be, like the first five or so chapters is just pining, oh yeah so much pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 128,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozxiii/pseuds/Ozxiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the students at Francoise Dupont had an idyllic childhood. They were all happy and healthy, and they spent their days in classes and playing to their heart's content so long as the students never wandered beyond the school grounds. But then, for the first time in the history of the school, there was a new student. Someone who came from beyond the gates. Adrien.</p><p>Years later, Marinette would unexpectedly see her childhood friends one last time. They would recall their happy childhoods and struggle to hold onto each other as their worlds fell apart. </p><p>Based on the movie Never Let Me Go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Francoise Dupont, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new student arrives, friendships are formed and broken and the children learn the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is UNBETA'D. I'm sorry, I swear I'll get around to it eventually.
> 
> Suggested Listening: [Never Let Me Go by Judy Bridgewater](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UX6tzE7P44)

A new student at Francoise Dupont was unheard of. In the entire history of the school, there had never been a new student. Each class had been grouped together when the children were born, and they stayed in their classes until the day they left the school. And yet, here was Adrien Agreste, a complete anomaly.

No one knew what to make of the new boy. He was too old to join the newer, younger classes where his presence wouldn’t have made a difference, so they placed him with his age group, but the children of this class had already formed their relationships and were reluctant to accept the newcomer.

“No one wants you, Agreste. Go back to where you came from.”

“I bet you think you’re special because you’re from the outside.”

The other boys glared at him before turning to walk away from him.

“Wait!”

He chased after them, desperate to be accepted, but they pushed him away. Adrien gave a shout as he stumbled and fell over on his back. He saw the sky stretch above him and groaned as he heard their retreating footsteps. When Adrien sat up, he saw that they had begun a game of football. They had already forgotten about him.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry and shout and hit something, but instead he sat in the middle of the field, hugging his knees to his chest, trying his best not to sob aloud. Showing weakness would just give the other boys another reason to pick on him later on, and fighting back would drive them farther away from him. He clenched his fists, knuckles white and nails digging into the heel of his hand.

A hand touch his shoulder and he spun around, hitting the person behind him, startled. But then his eyes went wide as he realized a girl was in front of him. She had fallen to the ground too. She whimpered, holding her side where he had hit her.

He scrambled to his feet and held out a hand to her. She looked like she was trying very hard not to cry and Adrien saw a ladybug fly off her shoulder. The girl looked up at him with the bluest eyes - just like the sky, he thought - and bit her lip. Just as she was about to take his hand, they heard a shout.

The other girls were running towards them, they looked angry and screamed at Adrien to get away.

So he did.

Adrien ran all the way to the edges of the school property and sat with his back against the fence. He had found that the other children stayed away from the fence. As much as he wanted to be accepted by them and to be a part of them, their rejection had forced him to find a place where he could recover from their assaults. From here, he watched the girls crowding around the one he had hit. They hugged and comforted her and sent glares in his direction. What would it take for them to treat him like that as well?

 

* * *

 

Marinette had been warned to stay away from him. Of course, no one told her outright that the new boy was off limits, but the way they talked about him and treated him was enough for her to gather that he was to be avoided.

But her heart went out to him. She watched as the other boys threw things at him when the guardians had their backs turned, and she saw how he still came back to them, begging to be accepted despite it all.

“He should stop trying,” Chloe said.

“Doesn’t he know he’s not wanted here?” Sabrina agreed.

“Mari?”

Chloe was looking over her shoulder at Marinette. “Why did you stop? Did you catch one?”

The girls were catching ladybugs, looking through the trees and trying to find them. Marinette had been too caught up in watching the boys across the field.

“No. I’m still looking.”

Chloe smiled at her and turned back to the other girls. “Anyway, as I was saying, the boys are right. He thinks he’s better than us because he’s from the outside. But we all know better. The outside is dangerous – he’s probably dangerous too. ”

Rose nodded. “That’s true! He yelled at Mylene and scared her yesterday.”

“Poor Mylene, are you okay?” Juleka reached up and cupped her hands over a ladybug. “I caught one!”

Mylene walked over to peer into Juleka’s hands at the ladybug. She gave a small smile, “I’m fine, I just don’t want to talk about it. Can I see –”

They heard a shout. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the boys again. Adrien was sprawled over on the ground and the other boys were walking way. Marinette jumped up and started towards him.

“Marinette wait! Don’t!” Alya called after her.

“Stop Mari! Weren’t you listening to us?”

The girls all voiced their objections, citing Mylene’s encounter with him and the potential danger he posed. But Marinette didn’t listen. All she saw was a boy who wanted a friend. No one had even given him a chance before they started spreading rumors about him and bullying him. When Marinette reached Adrien, she put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

But she had startled him and he hit her in his surprise. Marinette yelped as she fell over and whimpered, holding her injured side.

Adrien scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with the realization of what he had just done. He looked sorry and held out a hand to her.

“Marinette!”

“Oh my god, Marinette!”

“Get away from her! Get away!”

Marinette looked over her shoulder and saw the girls running towards her. They faces showed various expressions from worry to anger. When she turned back to Adrien, she saw him retreating to the fence. She wanted to call after him but he was too far and the girls had reached her. Alya was the first to get to Marinette. Her friend hugged her and began to comfort her. The other girls approached and did the same, each of them taking a turn at worrying over Marinette. Despite the dull aching at her side, Mari kept telling them that she was all right, and that it wasn’t a big deal. Still, they wouldn’t listen to her. Instead, they chastised her for not listening to them.

“Don’t’ do that again, Marinette.”

“We told you he was dangerous.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at them when they weren’t looking, but bit her lip at the thought of this incident being used as another reason to ostracise Adrien. He hadn’t meant to hit her, it was only an accident. He even tried to help her up, at least, until they had been interrupted. The look in his green eyes stayed with her. The worry and regret was apparent. He had been sorry.

Soon, the bell rang and the guardians started leading the children back inside. On the way, Alya pointed to the front gates.

“Look, headmaster Tikki is letting a woman through the gates.”

“Do you think she’s the new guardian?”

“Who else could she be?”

Speculations about the woman replaced the worried chatter surrounding Marinette and she was glad for it. The sooner they forget the incident, the sooner they would leave Adrien alone for what he had done, intentional or not.

“Ladies!”

A guardian was gesturing for them to hurry along. Chloe looked over her shoulder at Marinette, worry in her eyes.

"Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She smiled and took Marinette’s hand, and the girls all ran back towards the school.

 

* * *

 

There were a number of things of note during announcements the next day.

First, were the cigarette butts that had been found behind the pots in the garden. The headmaster reminded everyone that Francoise Dupont students were above such things and that smoking would not be tolerated, adding that students caught smoking would be removed from the school. The headmaster paused to let the warning sink in. Each and every student was stunned silent. That was the worst punishment of all.

The second item of note was much more upbeat. Madame Sabine Dupain-Cheng was introduced as the new guardian in charge of the ninth year students. Madame Dupain-Cheng was shorter than most of the other guardians, but all the students immediately liked her for her friendly smile. There was an air of calmness around her that put everyone at ease, even after the threat of expulsion just before her introduction.

After morning announcements, the students filed out of the hall and headed to their first classes. For Adrien, Marinette and the rest of their class, it was art. Upon entering the art room, the students set up their easels and tables. They spread out their canvases and took out their paints. Some students began new paintings while others continued to work on the ones they had been since the start of the term. Everyone was anxious to create something marvelous and incredible.

Adrien’s canvas was blank. He stared at the empty sheet while everyone else worked away. Some of the other boys snickered and nudged each other, whispering about how useless Adrien was.

“He can’t even paint.”

“Probably doesn’t even know how to hold a brush.”

Adrien clenched his fists and closed his eyes, trying to ignore them.

Marinette watched them, distracted from her painting. She put down her brush, about to interject when Chloe grabbed her wrist.

“Mari, don’t. Remember Mylene? Remember last time?”

Marinette bit her lip. _But you’re wrong,_ she wanted to say. Adrien was not dangerous. He hadn’t meant it. He had thought that she was another one of the boys picking on him. He had been sorry the moment he realized it. She shook Chloe’s hand away, but then caught Alya shaking her head at her as well. All the girls were looking at Marinette, silently pleading her not to go.

She ignored them but she didn’t go to Adrien’s side either. Instead, she made her way around to the boys who had been snickering, and asked them to stop. Most of them raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t continue. When Ivan and Kim shot back their objections, Marinette threatened to tell a guardian on them, and if that didn’t work, she’d tell the girls who they had crushes on.

That shut them up.

Marinette returned to her painting a few minutes later, feeling better now that everything was quiet and peaceful. Adrien had noticed the absence of whispers and looked up at her. There was a silent thank you in his green eyes. Marinette just smiled back.

 

* * *

 

Despite Marinette’s efforts, she had only eased the symptoms. She hadn’t solved the actual problem. By the time it was lunch, the boys were once again picking on Adrien, and he sat alone in the cafeteria.

This time, Marinette broke off from the rest of the girls before she could hear their objections. She sat down across from Adrien and began to eat, waiting for him to look up at her.

“Marinette, right?”

“Mhmm,” she replied through a mouthful of rice.

“I… thank you. For before.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled.

“And I’m sorry. I never got to say sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

For a minute or so, Adrien simply stared back at her in silence. He looked away when she caught him, and Mari thought that he looked like he wasn’t sure of what to say next, or rather, he looked like he didn’t know how to carry on a conversation at all.

“So tell me,” Mari started. “What’s the outside world like?”

If it was possible, Adrien looked even more uncomfortable than before. “To be honest, I’m not so sure myself.”

“What do you mean?”

Adrien shifted in his seat and pushed his unfinished lunch away. He took an apple and tossed it between his hands. “Not here. Not now. I’ll tell you about it some other time – I mean, if you want. If you would want to talk to me again… I just, I mean –”

He dropped the apple and Marinette laughed. Adrien’s face went red and he looked down. Suddenly, it occurred to Marinette what it looked like and she stopped.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. Here,” she took the apple from her tray and placed it on his. “Have mine.”

“Th-thanks.”

“You know when the other boys were making fun of you in art?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you just paint something? It would have shut them up.”

“I-I didn’t know what to paint.”

Marinette frowned. That was no good, “then what will you submit to the gallery? The guardians told you about the gallery, right?”

"They did.” Adrien bit his lip. The pressure to create something amazing for the gallery was exactly what caused him to blank out in the first place. He had never had to create anything before. Outside Francoise Dupont his only job had been to survive.

Sensing something of his anxiety, Marinette stopped her line of questioning. “I’m sure you’ll think of something great.”

“Thank you Marinette.” He looked up at her through his lashes and for a second, Marinette could not figure out why anyone would want to bully this boy. She felt the strong urge to befriend him.

Lunch ended soon after the two of them walked to the fountain behind the school. They went through the gardens, past the gazebo and through the gate in the brick wall that divided the gardens from the school.

“So tell me about the outside.”

“I don’t really know that much.”

"Why not?”

“I lived in a little apartment. I never left it so I wouldn’t be able to tell you much beyond that.”

“Then tell me about the apartment.”

“Why are you so curious?”

Adrien looked uncomfortable again. Although the seclusion of the fountain area had put him at ease, he was still hesitant to talk about his life before Francoise Dupont. Marinette dropped the subject.

“I’ve never left Francoise Dupont either. This is all I know.”

“Why don’t you go outside?”

Marinette looked surprised for a second. “It’s dangerous out there.”

“I came from outside and I’m not dangerous. And the deliverymen, they’re nice too.”

“Yes but,” Marinette looked to the bubbling fountain and Adrien threw a rock into it. “Have you not heard the stories?”

“What stories?”

“There was a story about a girl who had slipped through the front gate, but when she tried to get back in, the guardians ignored her and she died right in front of the grounds.”

“But what about the deliverymen?”

"They just drove past her, ignoring her. And then there are stories about the boy who climbed over the fence to get a ball and then he was attacked by wild dogs.”

“But aren’t these all just stories?”

“What are you saying?”

“What if someone made it all up?”

Marinette’s eyebrows knit together and she frowned. “Who would make up something as terrible as that?”

“Is that why you keep asking me about the outside? Because you want me to tell you that it’s as dangerous as you think?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

They two of them stopped talking for a while and they threw more rocks into the fountain. Finally, Adrien broke the silence.

“There were only four rooms in the apartment. My bed room, the bathroom, the living room and the fourth room. All I know about the outside is those four rooms.”

“What was it like living there?”

“There wasn’t a lot to do. I read a lot of books. I had a television set to watch too, and I could exercise and run on this machine, but that was it. I know about as much as you do about the outside.”

“What about when you left that place? Didn’t you see anything on the way here?”

“I was asleep for most of the ride. All I saw were dirt roads and trees.” When Marinette didn’t say anything, Adrien broke the silence again. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Adrien looked down, his face showing a range of emotions. There was fear, but also a kind of sadness in his eyes.

“You didn’t.” She smiled at him and took his hand, giving him a comforting squeeze before pulling Adrien to his feet. “We should go back now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding.

Marinette only realized that they were still holding hands after they had passed the gazebo and started to see some other students around. She blushed and quickly took her hand away. Adrien looked at her, missing the contact they had. His hand felt cold without her – and though Marinette would not admit it, hers did too. But the moment was gone. They looked away from each other, rejoining the rest of their class at their next lesson.

 

 

* * *

 

Everything was quiet in the dead of night. Through Alya and Chloe’s giggles, Marinette could hear the other girls softly snoring. The three of them were the only ones still awake, although Alya was beginning to nod off fast.

“What do you think of Nino?” Marinette asked.

Chloe giggled. “I think he likes you Alya.”

“We’re just good friends.”

Chloe scoffed, “I don’t think he thinks that.”

“Well what about Nath?” Alya asks.

“What about him?” Chloe replied.

“Nath likes Mari. It’s so obvious. But Mari, you keep saying that you two are just friends.”

“That’s because we are!” she shoot back. “I mean, he’s a little cute, but I don’t like him.”

Alya giggled, “See, she said he was cute!”

“Ohhh, you have a point.” Chloe whispers.

“Stopppppp itttttttttt.”

The girls giggle again but stop when they hear footsteps. Guardians kept watch over night, making sure that no one went wandering in the night.

“And what about Kim?” Alya asks

“He told me he likes Chloe.” Marinette says.

“Stop lying Marinette.”

“I’m not!”

“Did you hear about Mylene?” Chloe interjected.

“You’re trying to change the subject.” Marinette rolls her eyes.

“No, I’m not.”

“Well what about her?”

“Rose said she saw the two of them holding hands during morning announcements, Juleka swears she saw them hugging, and I saw them kissing by the fountain.”

“Really?” Marinette gasps

“It’s true!” Chloe responds.

“Hey, is Alya still awake?”

The two girls quiet down and they can hear Alya’s even breathing joining in with the other girls’ snoring.

“I think she fell asleep.”

“But she never answered me about Nino.”

The two girls giggle again, trying to keep their voices to a minimum.

“Hey Marinette, is there anyone you actually like?”

“Like… like-like?”

“Yeah.”

The afternoon spent with Adrien comes to mind and Marinette’s face starts to heat up. She’s glad for the darkness and hopes that Chloe doesn’t notice her sudden silence. If she does notice, Chloe doesn’t say anything.

“What about you Chloe?”

“You mean, do I have anyone I like?”

“Yeah.”

The familiar sounds of bed springs tell Marinette that Chloe has shifted and turned away from her.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Who is it?”

But Chloe does not respond. A few minutes later, Marinette hears Chloe’s even and steady breathing. She’s fallen asleep too, and Marinette is the only one left wake.

 

* * *

 

 

Everyone was on their best behaviour, trying to earn a few extra tokens from the guardians.

Headmaster Tikki announced that there would be sale a few weeks later. All the students were bustling with excitement, and retrieving their tokens from their secret hiding places. Marinette checked her purse and smiled that the number of plastic chips she had while Chloe and Alya dumped their purses out onto their beds, counting and recounting the number of tokens they had. Some of the boys even started to do favors for one another if they would be paid in tokens.

Since Adrien had been new, he hadn’t had a chance to start saving up. Instead, he received a handful of tokens from headmaster Tikki. Most of the boys thought it was unfair, but with the number of tokens that Adrien had received, some of the boys started to act nicer towards him, and were surprised to find that they liked talking to Adrien.

Nino was the first of the boys to be converted. Adrien had his strange quirks, but Nino brushed them off as habits that “outsiders” had. He proved to be just as curious as Marinette had been about the outside world, albeit, it had taken him longer to get over his fear of the outside.

In any case, Marinette was glad that Adrien finally had a friend. Even though most of the boys were still horrible to him, at least he could turn to Nino, and at least Nino defended him when he could. Of course, there were still moments that couldn’t be helped.

“Oops.”

“You did that on purpose!” Adrien shouted.

“It was an accident! Besides, you’ll never get into the Gallery anyway.”

“What is going on here?”

“Madame, it was just an accident. Adrien was using up all the red paint. I just wanted to get some and I accidentally spilt it.””

“It wasn’t! Kim did it on purpose!” Nino said.

“Settle down. Everyone, back to your paintings,” Madame Bustier clapped her hands and everyone scattered from the scene. She knelt down to Adrien’s level and spoke softly. Adrien was biting his bottom lip, face red and eyebrows knit together.  

“Now start again, okay Adrien?”

He nodded and she left the art room.

“Dude, I’m sure you can paint… whatever it was you were painting again.”

“No, it’s ruined.”

“What was it anyway?”

Adrien shook his head, defeated. “Doesn’t matter now”

Madame Bustier returned with the headmaster and gestured for Adrien to come over. He left his ruined painting and went with headmaster Tikki. Nino shook his head and glowered at the boys who had played the prank. Marinette stopped painting and helped him clean up the mess that Kim had caused, accident or not. Surprisingly, Chloe even joined them. When the mess was cleaned up, Chloe and Marinette returned to their paintings, and Alya gave them both a look.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Leave us alone, she was just helping Nino clean up,” Chloe said. Marinette stared at her, surprised for the second time.

“Shut up Chloe, you just want to be friends with Adrien now that you know he has a lot of tokens.”

“That’s not true!”

“Guys, stop it!” Marinette stood between them, trying to calm her friends down. Alya and Chloe turned away from each other, ignoring the other as they both went back to painting. Marinette felt awkward, caught between the two of her friends, and the three of them painted in silence for the rest of the class.

 

* * *

 

At lunch, Adrien still wasn’t back from his talk with the headmaster, and Chloe didn’t sit with Marinette and Alya. Instead, she sat with Sabrina and she would occasionally make a comment or remark to Marinette from across the table but ignored Alya, and Alya did the same to her. When lunch ended, the four of them went back to the dorms to collect their books, but Marinette, uncomfortable with the atmosphere, turned to Sabrina.

“What do you think will be at the sale? Are you excited for it?”

“I don’t know, but I hope there will be a headband! I want a new one.”

“Sabrina, darling, I’ll buy one for you,” Chloe said. “You too, Marinette, if there’s anything you want.”

“No thank you, Chloe. What about you, Alya? What do you want to buy?”

“I want a recorder so I can interview people and save what they say.”

The conversation fell into another uncomfortable lull, and Marinette groaned. Despite her efforts, her friends were not talking. When they reached the dorms, Chloe screamed. She had left her purse on her bed but now it was missing. All her tokens were gone.

For the rest of the afternoon, Sabrina was her only companion. Chloe wouldn’t deal with anyone else with her mood so low, and she snapped at anyone and everyone who tried to approach her. She was even snippy with the guardians. And since Marinette was accompanied by Alya, Chloe wouldn’t talk to her either. Everything was terrible. The excitement of the upcoming sale had disappeared, ruined by the day’s events.

 

* * *

 

 

As headmaster, Tikki needed to ensure that every student was happy and healthy. When things escalated or got out of hand, she had to deal with it. She preferred not to let it get so far, not like it had with Adrien. She blames herself for not having kept a closer eye on the new boy, but with the Institute breathing down her back, funding, and Plagg’s arrival coming up, there was just too much for her to deal with.

But Tikki tried. She really did.

Which was why Chloe stood outside of her door, waiting to be called inside. She had seemed in a particularly foul mood lately, and Chloe always showed it. She made it known to everyone that something was wrong, even if she didn’t say what that something was. With a sigh, Tikki invites the girl inside. She sees her bit her lip, trying her best to keep up her tough demeanor.

“Chloe, what’s the matter?”

“It’s all Ayla’s fault, headmaster.”

“What did she do?”

“She insulted me and now she’s… she’s taken…”

Her tough act began to crumble. She still looked angry, but now she was trying to hold back tears. After a bit more prompting and questioning, she was crying, and she gave Tikki the brief and muffled answers between hiccups that Tikki was after.

“I don’t… I don’t… want to… lose my b-best friend.”

Tikki put a hand on her shoulder, patting her gently. “What happened?”

Chloe shook her head, “doesn’t matter,” she said, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. “It’s… Alya’s…. Alya’s side… Alya took Marinette away from me even tho – even though Mari’s my closest friend.”

“But Chloe, you have other friends like Sabrina, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah, but Marinette’s my _b-best_ friend.”

It was all Tikki could get out of the girl before she broke down into another mess of tears. She looked up at her with teary eyes.

“Wh-what do I d-do? I do-don’t want to be l-left behind.”

It struck Tikki that Chloe completely vulnerable right now. This was a side of her that no one ever saw. It wasn’t even something that Chloe ever got across in her paintings, no matter how beautiful or skillful her paintings were. Tikki couldn’t help but think how much easier Plagg’s job, and her own job, would be if only Chloe _could_ convey this moment through art. With a sigh, Tikki placed a comforting hand on Chloe’s shoulder.

“Sometimes, Chloe, you have to apologize, even if you weren’t wrong. Someone has to give the other person a chance first.”

Chloe frowned. She was sniffling now, the tears had stopped and a bit of her pride was showing through. “Why doesn’t Alya give in then?”

Tikki raised an eyebrow. “Because Alya isn’t the one missing her best friend.”

That sent the girl into another round of sobs. Tikki did her best to calm Chloe down and to reassure her that everything would be okay. When Chloe had composed herself enough, Tikki sent the girl on her way. Chloe still didn’t know what to do to fix things, but like all the other students that saw the headmaster, she knew things would be okay. Tikki always made sure things would be alright.

And an hour later, Alya was waiting by headmaster Tikki’s door.

 

* * *

 

The next day was the sale. Deliverymen brought in boxes of goods and laid them out on tables that were arranged in rows. There were trinkets, toys, and random accessories spread out over the tables and everyone crowded the aisles, trying to look at everything.

Luckily for Chloe, it was Alya who found the missing purse.

She claimed it was in her nosy nature, but despite their feud, she had felt sorry for Chloe and went to investigate. Somehow, the purse had fallen off of Chloe’s bed and landed in the space between her bed and Alix’s. Alix had taken it, thinking that it was hers and that she had dropped it. When the whole mess was sorted out, Chloe bought Alya a camera from the sale and they were friends again.

With her remaining tokens, Chloe kept true to her promise and bought Sabrina something too – a hat that Sabrina had found in place of a headband. And as thanks, Sabrina bought Chloe a pair of sunglasses. Excited, the three of them rushed out into the yard to play – Chloe and Sabrina modelling their new accessories while Alya photographed them.

Marinette told them that she would join them after she had found something. But as she wandered up and down the aisles, nothing caught her eye. She felt too crowded by the other students, so she left the sale, waiting for the crowd to lessen before she went back inside. She sat down on a bench in the hallway, watching the other students coming out of the sale with their new toys. Juleka had found a pretty mirror. Rose had a new doll, and Ivan found a music player. Alix and Kim both found pairs of roller-skates and went out to race.

As the crowd began to die down, Adrien came out of the sale and waited till Alix and Kim were out of sight. Then he sat down next to Marinette.

“Are you okay Mari? Are you feeling sick?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you have enough tokens? If not… I can give you some of mine.”

“No thank you. I just didn’t see anything I really liked. So I thought I’d let everyone else choose first. I’m sure there will be something left for me.”

A group of boys came out of the sale. They had all chipped in to buy a ball and went out to play basketball. Adrien waited for them to disappear down the hall.

“It’s okay if you don’t buy anything… because I already bought something for you.”

Adrien shoved a bag into Marinette’s hand, and fidgeted as she opened it. Inside was a box and a cassette tape. Marinette took the cassette out first, looking it over and then up at Adrien.

“I heard that song before, once, before I came to Francoise Dupont. You’re always asking out the Outside… I thought you might like it.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“And the box?”

“Open it.”

Marinette glanced down at the velvet box in her hands. She flipped open the lid and inside was a pair of earrings, red with five black spots.

“Adrien… thank you.” Marinette smiled at him and Adrien gave her a shy smile back. There was a shade of pink spreading over his cheeks and Marinette’s too as she leaned in and hugged him. “I love it. Thank you so much.”

“I saw them and I thought of you.”

Marinette put the earrings on right away. She couldn’t stop reaching up and feeling her ears for them, smiling every time she did. “I have a cassette player in my room. I can go get it and then we can listen to it together.”

“N-no! I mean, no, that’s okay. Listen to it yourself. I mean, by yourself. I mean, you can listen to it with whoever you want, but I’m okay. No thanks.” The blush on his face grew darker and Marinette laughed. Somehow, when she was the one laughing at him, he didn’t feel so bad. He kind of liked her laugh.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Adrien walked Marinette to her dorm before he left her to her devices. He could hear the opening of brass instruments as he made his way down the hall. He passed Chloe on the way down the stairs and as the singing started, he ran outside to find Nino.

_‘Darling, hold me, hold me, hold me. And never, never, never let me go.’_

_‘Darling, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. And never, never, never let me go.’_

‘ _Lock my heart. Throw away the key. Fill my love. Ecstasy_.’

_‘Bind my heart with your warm embrace and tell me no one will never take my place.’_

_‘Darling, tell me, tell me, tell me you’ll never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never…’_

Marinette had been hugging her pillow as she sat on her bed, swaying to the music. But when she heard the sound of the door creaking over the music, she opened her eyes and turned around to see Chloe staring at her. Neither of them said anything, and Chloe’s expression was unreadable. They just stared at each other until the music faded out, then Chloe left.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, headmaster Tikki made the formal announcement of Monsieur Plagg’s arrival at Francois Dupont. His visits came annually, and all the students loved him. He would observe the students, particularly during their art classes and then after a week, he would take the students’ submitted art pieces and pick the ones most suited to his gallery.

But this time, Tikki asked Plagg to take on additional duties.

Adrien walked into Plagg’s little office. He looked over this blond haired, green eyed boy, wondering what it was about him that caused Tikki concern. Plagg noted first of all, that he was a new student. Maybe that in itself was reason enough for Tikki to ask him to see the boy.

“I’m Adrien,” the boy said, introducing himself. “I was told by Headmaster Tikki to see you.”

Plagg nodded, gesturing for Adrien to take a seat. He did. “What did she want you to see me about?”

“Art.”

Plagg stood and retrieved a tin of biscuits. “Feel free,” he said, before telling Adrien to go on.

“I can’t paint. And Headmaster told me that it would be a bit of a problem.”

“It is. But why do you say you can’t paint? If you can hold a brush, dip it in paint and move it across a canvas then you can paint.”

“That’s not the problem. The problem is that I can’t think of what to paint.”

“There has to be something.”

“I mean… I tried once, but it was ruined. I say it’s hopeless, but Headmaster told me that you would change my mind.”

Plagg takes a biscuit from the tin and offers one to Adrien. He chews on it for a moment before answering. “I don’t know if I can change your mind.”

“Then what should I do?”

Plagg sighs. “What were you trying to paint? Before it was ruined that is.”

The boy blushes and Plagg smiles.

“Is it something you love? Or someone?”

“I was painting a ladybug.”

“What’s so hard about starting that again?”

Adrien shakes his head. “The other boys are just going to pick on me again.”

“But the ladybug, it means something to you, doesn’t it?”

Adrien nods.

“Then you should fight for it. Prove to me that it means something to you.”

“Why should I have to prove it to you?”

“You don’t, but you will regret it if you don’t.”

He didn’t mean it as a threat, but the boy seemed to have taken it as one anyway. Adrien didn’t stay long after that. He excused himself and went to join his class.

When Plagg was alone, he looked out his window to see a class of students playing football in the yard. They were older than Adrien’s class. These students would be leaving Francoise Dupont soon, and Plagg had failed them. He shook his head.

“Why should you have to prove anything at all?” Plagg whispered to himself. If only, if only.

 

* * *

 

Alya and Marinette stood in the hall, just out of sight of the headmaster’s office.

The guardians had taken the art submissions to the office. Monsieur Plagg, Headmaster Tikki, and a number of the other guardians were already inside. Alya and Marinette had followed them as far as they could without being seen, curious as to how Monsieur Plagg chose the pieces for his gallery.

_“Are all the pieces here?”_

_“Yes. One student did not submit a piece, however.”_

_“Which one?”_

_“The new boy… I don’t think he has adjusted to Francoise Dupont yet. Perhaps next year.”_

_“Then let us begin.”_

The two girls heard the shuffling of canvases and a few stray comments as the guardians, headmaster, and Monsieur Plagg continued. Marinette bit her tongue, wanting to object to the news she had just heard, but she couldn’t be caught. During the whole process, no names were mentioned and neither of the girls could tell which painting they were talking about.

_“Put these two pieces together, they complement each other.”_

_“This one really reveals the soul of the student.”_

_“I think this would work.”_

_“This one, this is really good.”_

“Ladies.”

Alya and Marinette jumped, surprised that they had been caught. Madame Dupain-Cheng shook her head and gestured for them to run along. Alya and Marinette looked at each other. There was nothing either of them could do, and they were grateful that they were getting off so easily, so they did as they were told and ran back to their dorms.

 

* * *

 

Marinette was beyond angry. No, angry wasn’t quite the word for it. Disappointed? Sad? Those words didn’t quite fit either. The only emotion she could pinpoint was frustration.

There had been a question burning on Marinette’s tongue ever since Monsieur Plagg left the school yesterday evening, but she waited until she and Adrien were alone at the fountain. The two of them went on walks whenever they could. They always took the same route, through the garden, past the gazebo, past the gates and to the fountain. This place was their little world away from the rest of Francoise Dupont, and it was here that Marinette could finally ask Adrien.

“Why didn’t you submit to the gallery?” she all but shouted at him. He had expected the question but he had not expected the flush of her cheeks and the way she frowned at him. He did not expect all this emotion.

“I – I…” he had prepared an answer but the words left him.

“Was it because of Kim? Max? Or was it all of them?” she sounded angry. “Because you should have submitted anyway. Whatever they say doesn’t matter. They don’t choose for the gallery!”

“Marinette, tha-that’s not it.”

“Then why? Why didn’t you submit?”

“Why does it matter? Why is the gallery so important?”

Marinette didn’t have the words to explain why it was so important. All her life, she had been told that creativity was one of the most important qualities to possess. Francoise Dupont had fostered and encouraged her art and craft, and she excelled at it. But she couldn’t explain to him why it was all so… so _vital._

Instead, her eyes started to water and she began to cry. “Adrien, this was so important.”

“Mari, don’t –” he reached out to her and she let him hug her. It only lasted a moment before he pulled back. “I’m sorry. There’s still so much I don’t know about Francoise Dupont. I’ll learn. I’ll submit next year, okay? Just don’t cry Marinette. I don’t know what to do if you do.”

She sniffled. “Adrien, yo-ou need to underst-stand. The gallery is _everything_ here.”

“I… I don’t understand, but I will. It’s just that things are so different here. Back with –” Adrien cut himself off, biting his tongue. Marinette sniffled again and looked up at him.

“What?”

Adrien shook his head. “Art was never encouraged for me. It’s difficult and the other boys make it harder.”

“But you painted something. I saw you start again.”

“I couldn’t finish. I’m not like you Marinette. You paint these wonderful pictures but it’s harder for me. So much harder.”

And it struck Marinette that Adrien was struggling to get something across to her as well. He was trying so hard to get her to understand that he did not have the same luxury as she did. Art was not something he grew up with. It did not come as naturally for him as it did for her.  She took his hand in hers.

“He only ever needed me to be healthy. A woman would come and she taught me things – reading, writing, and so much more. But he only ever came to run experiments and perform tests. That’s all he ever emphasized; my health. Never art.”

He squeezed her hand. “I promise I’ll try. I promise I’ll submit something next year.”

Marinette nodded, and he hugged her again, glad that Marinette was not mad at him anymore. He wouldn’t know what to do if she stayed mad at him.

“Promise me you’ll submit something every year. Not just next year! I don’t want you to regret it if you don’t submit.”

“Monsieur Plagg told me that too. He said I would regret it if I didn’t.”

“You’ll see, Adrien.” Marinette wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. “Monsieur Plagg is right.”

Adrien felt uncomfortable, but Marinette had stopped crying so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled her into another hug. He liked holding her. She was small, but she fit snug against him. He liked the feeling of her arms around him too.

“Was he ever mean to you? The man you were talking about.”

“He never talked to me, but he never hurt me either.” Adrien grimaced, “he just performed his experiments and gave me things to pass the time… it always hurt, the experiments.”

“What did he do?”

Adrien shook his head again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Do you miss that place? Do you miss him or the woman?”

Adrien pulled away from Marinette, so that he could look at her as he told her, “no, not one bit. I’m glad I’m here now.”

“Good,” Marinette said. “I’m glad too.”

The bell rang in the distance and Marinette and Adrien stayed as they were for a moment longer, arms loosely around each other, before they started back towards the school. They held hands as they walked, and this time they didn’t let go not even when they started to near the other students. As they passed the others, Alya, Chloe, Nino and all the other boys stared at them.

Still, Marinette and Adrien didn’t care. Being connected felt good and it felt right.

 

* * *

 

With Monsieur Plagg gone, and the selection for the next gallery a year away, the curriculum changed. There would only be art classes every other week for the students to practice and keep up their skills. In the meantime, they would take world preparation classes.

Marinette stood behind a makeshift counter while Alya, Adrien, and Nath lined up in front of her. Rose and Juleka sat at a table, having already ordered. Madame Dupain-Cheng and the other students watched as they went through the motions of how to order food and drinks at a café.

“I would like a cup of tea with two sugars and milk, and a croissant, please,” Alya said.

“That will be three tokens.”

“Here you are.”

Marinette looked under the counter for a teapot, but she felt dizzy. She pushed around the toy utensils until she found it. Then, she pretended to pour tea into a tiny cup. Next, she took out a plate and placed a plastic croissant on it. She handed the plate and cup over to Alya. “Thank you, come again.”

“Thank you,” Alya said. She smiled as Madame Dupain-Cheng nodded at her. She had practiced her order all night last night and was glad that her hard work paid off. She took the toy plate and cup and joined Rose and Juleka at their table.

“Adrien, it’s your turn,” Madame Dupain-Cheng said. Adrien look startled.

He took a step toward Marinette. “I would like a cup of tea with two sugars and milk, and a croissant, please.”

“No Adrien, you’re supposed to come up with your own order, not copy the person in front of you.” Madame Dupain-Cheng said. “Try again.”

Adrien looked worried as the other kids laughed. Madame Dupain-Cheng turned to shush them.

“Order a coffee with milk and no sugar,” Marinette whispered.

“Thank you…” Adrien whispered back.

“Settle down!”

Adrien raised an eyebrow at Marinette. “Are you feeling okay? You’re a little red.” Marinette nodded back in response.

When the class settled down, Madame Dupain-Cheng looked up at Adrien. “Continue.”

“A coffee with milk and no sugar.” Adrien looked at the assortment of toy foods. “And a cookie too, please.”

Marinette smiled and prepared the fake food, feeling dizzier as she looked for the toy utensils. “That will be four tokens, please.”

They exchanged the tokens and food and thanked each other. Adrien took the toy food and sat at a table away from the other girls.

“Hot chocolate, please.” Nath said.

“That will be two tokens.” Marinette replied. Nath put the tokens on the counter and Marinette went to prepare the fake drink, but she hand slipped and she dropped the plastic cup on the ground.

“Mari, are you okay?” Nath asked.

“I-I’m a little dizzy,” she replied. She looked up to see Nath, as well as Adrien and Alya behind him, all of them with worried expressions. “Madame Dupain-Cheng, may I go to the nurse’s office?”

“Yes Marinette. Nathanael, can you take her there?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Madame,” Adrien asked, “can I take Marinette to the nurse’s office too?”

“No Adrien, you need to stay and learn from the next group.”

As Mari and Nath left the room, Madame Dupain-Cheng praised the remaining students for a job well done and told them all to come off the stage so that the next group could continue. Adrien jumped down from the stage and watched as Nath supported Marinette, the two of them exiting the room. He hoped she was alright.

When they had left, he turned back to the class and caught Chloe staring at him.

 

* * *

 

Adrien missed Marinette. She had been isolated in the health ward at the nurse’s office for two nights now, and all he could think about was her. Was she okay? Had her fever broken yet? He hated that he wasn’t allowed to visit her. The guardians told him that visitors were not allowed until they were sure Marinette was fully recovered.

But when would that be?

Without her there, Adrien spent more and more time with Nino. He was glad for this new friend, but there were still times that Adrien wanted to see Mari. He found himself going to the fountains by himself – it didn’t feel right to bring Nino there, at least, not without Marinette there too.

With all his fretting about Marinette, and their growing closeness, Adrien was sure that the other boys had noticed. Nino had, anyway, and he warned Adrien that the other boys would tease him about it. It was almost certain, with how much they loved bullying him – not to mention, not even Ivan was spared when he his crush on Mylene was revealed.

Yet somehow, he was spared… And he had a feeling that he needed to thank Chloe for that.

He didn’t expect to be able to thank her any time soon though. After all, most of the girls steered clear of him, and Chloe was often surrounded by her friends. Usually, she was with Marinette, Alya, Sabrina, or all three of them at the same time. But Alya and Sabrina had been called away to help the guardians with an errand, and Marinette was sick. Unfortunately, when a student was sick, they were brought to the nurse’s office, isolated until they recovered.

In any case, Chloe sat at the bench by the fountain. The bench that he and Marinette always sat on when they came out here to talk. Adrien stopped when he saw her, standing near the gate. Chloe, hearing his approach, turned around and saw him.

“Hi Adrien.”

“Chloe.”

He approached her but he was wary. When he reached the bench, he didn’t sit down. “I saw you talking to Kim and Ivan. I think you probably talked to Max and Nathanael too.”

Chloe didn’t answer him. She patted the spot next to her. “Why don’t you sit?”

“I don’t know why you’re here, but thank you for that.” He waited for some kind of reaction and was surprised with the one that he got.

“I was worried because Marinette’s my best friend and because I didn’t know you. But now that I know you better… now that I can see you’re Marinette’s friend too, I can trust you.” When Adrien didn’t say anything, Chloe patted the spot on the bench again. “Come on, sit.”

He did, and Chloe relaxed a bit, smiling at him. “You noticed that Marinette was sick before anyone else did.”

“Yeah, so?”

"Marinette’s so nice to everyone. I didn’t know how she could trust you so easily. But then you saw she was sick even before Alya or I did. You care about her just as much as I do.”

Adrien wondered about that.

“I don’t do this very often. Or ever, really, but sorry for being mean to you before.”

“T-thanks Chloe.” Where did all this kindness come from? Adrien didn’t know how to respond to it. His face flushed, “that’s really… nice of you.”

“So, you and Marinette hang out a lot, don’t you?”

Adrien shook his head, “no, only every now and then.”

“What do you two do or talk about?”

Adrien looked away from Chloe. It didn’t feel right to talk to her about this. He was fine talking about how nice and good of a person Marinette was, but the things that went on between them was theirs, and theirs alone. It felt weird to even be here with Chloe. “Nothing in particular.”

“Do you two kiss?”

“What?!” His head snapped up and his face went even redder. “N-no, we don’t. We just talk.” He threw his hands up in defence.

Chloe smiled.

“Don’t you wonder what it’s like to kiss someone?”

“It-it’s never crossed my mind.”

Chloe hummed. “You’ve thought about kissing Marinette, haven’t you?”

Adrien choked on his own spit.

 

* * *

 

_‘Darling, hold me, hold me, hold me. And never, never, never let me go.’_

Marinette hugged her pillow to herself. She had been sick for a week now, and though she was feeling a lot better, she was terribly lonely. The only other people she saw were the nurses and the doctors. She was not allowed any visitors except the guardians, and even then, only Madame Dupain-Cheng came once a day to see how she was doing.

Luckily, they let Marinette bring her cassette player to the nurse’s office.

_‘Darling, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. And never, never, never let me go.’_

And though she was supposed to be bed bound, Marinette would get up whenever she was alone and she felt well enough to sway to the music. Of course, she never moved to fast or did anything that would make her too dizzy, but she liked to hug her pillow and think about Adrien. She liked to pretend they were dancing together, twirling and spinning and laughing together.

She missed him a lot.

‘ _Lock my heart. Throw away the key. Fill my love. Ecstasy_.’

She climbed out of bed and put on her slippers. She took a step to the side and swayed, and spun around the little room in slow circles, closing her eyes and smiling to herself. Maybe she could bring her cassette player to the fountain one day. Maybe Adrien would dance with her. She’d love that.

_‘Bind my heart with your warm embrace and tell me no one will never take my place.’_

The door opened, though Marinette didn’t notice. She continued to dance and headmaster Tikki entered the room. But when Tikki was Marinette, she stood frozen by the door.

This little girl. Marinette. She was _dancing._

Tears fell from Tikki’s eyes uncontrollably.

_‘Darling, tell me, tell me, tell me you’ll never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never…’_

Marinette opened her eyes and saw the headmaster standing before her. She let out a little gasp and dropped her pillow, startled that she had been caught out of bed. She expected a scolding, but instead, saw that the headmaster was crying.

“Headmaster?”

“M-Marinette. Oh… oh no.”

“Headmaster, what’s wrong?” she walked closer to headmaster Tikki, worried. Tikki fell to her knees and hugged the little girl, still crying.

“I’m sorry Marinette. So, so sorry…”

 

* * *

 

It was raining.

Instead of going to the drama room for world preparation, Madame Dupain-Cheng brought her students to their usual classroom and sat them all down. The students were all cheerful and happy today despite the weather. Marinette had recovered and she had rejoined the class. Everyone was excited about her return and it broke Madame Dupain-Cheng’s heart even more.

Sabine looked at each of her students, all of them were so obedient and docile, and yet they were all so different. There was Nino, who loved to relax and listen to music. Alya, who was always curious and investigating something. Ivan, who looked so angry but was such a softie on the inside. Mylene, who was scared of everything but brave when she needed to be. Juleka who hid her face behind her hair but was so pretty. Rose, who was kind to everyone. Alix, who was so competitive and never backed down. Kim, who loved to play pranks on everyone. Max, who loved to play games and excelled at puzzles. Nathanael, whose art made it into the gallery every year. Sabrina, who was so loyal. Chloe, who was afraid of being alone. Marinette, who had the biggest heart of all, and finally, Adrien. The boy who felt everything so deeply and just wanted to be love.

She had spent just a little under a year with them and already she knew each of them as individuals and cared so much for them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. With a shaky breath, she began.

“The problem is, you’ve been told and not told. You know but you don’t know. That’s what I’ve noticed while I’ve been here. None of you really understand, but I want you too. You need to understand.”

Madame Dupain-Cheng paused. The children looked up at her with blank, innocent eyes.

“Do you know what happens when children grow up?” No one answered. “No one knows because anything can happen. When children grow up, they can do anything. Some become actors, musicians. They might move to another country, or become teachers. They can become professional sports players or politicians. Scientists or artists. They can do almost anything.”

The children looked up at her, hopeful. They looked like they all had plans for the future. If they told her as much, Sabine would not be surprised. She could see Nino becoming a musician of some kind and Alya becoming a journalist. She could see Juleka as a stylist and Nathanael as an artist. She could see each of them with their own, separate, bright futures – futures that none of them would have.

“But with you, we do know. None of you will move to another country. None of you will become a teacher or an actor or anything but what others have already planned for you.”

She looked at Adrien.

“Not even you, who had a life outside of Francoise Dupont.”

Sabine took a breath, her voice becoming even shakier than it already was. She leaned on the desk behind her for support and turned to look at the rest of the class.

“When you become an adult, you will only have a little time, because before you even become middle aged, you will start to donate your vital organs. That’s what you have all been created to do.”

Sabine closed her eyes. She felt ashamed. She was only the messenger, and yet she felt so ashamed of it all.

“Some time around your third or fourth donation, your short life will be complete.”

She took another breath and opened her eyes.

“Do you understand? Do you know what this means?”

Sabine looked at each of her students again, scanning for some sign of understanding but all she saw were futures, wasted. Potential, wasted. _Lives. Wasted._

She turned away from them. She couldn’t stand this. She hadn’t been able to hold in the secret any longer, but now that she had told them, what was to be done? What different did it make?

“You need to understand. This is the only way any of you will lead decent lives.”

Still, none of them answered her and she walked to the window, holding back a sob. She shook her head, questioning what she had just done. She questioned herself, the school and everything. No one moved from their seats. They just watched Madame Dupain-Cheng. From what she could read of their expressions, they were waiting for her to continue. Waiting for her to tell them that there another way. That there was hope.

What they actually said broke her heart.

Chloe stood, a confused expression on her face. “Madame Dupain-Cheng, we know.”

 _‘But do you understand?’_ Sabine thought.

“We all know about it. We know it’s an honor. We’re a long ways off but we’ll spend our whole lives preparing for the moment when we’ll be complete.”

She was at a loss for words. Some of the other students nodded along with what Chloe said.

‘ _My god,’_ Sabine thought. ‘ _They know. They know but they_ can’t _even understand_.’

 

* * *

 

That morning, there was only one announcement. Madame Dupain-Cheng had been fired. Her class would be split between Madame Bustier and headmaster Tikki. Adrien, Chloe, Sabrina, Max, Juleka, Mylene and Alix went with Madame Bustier, and Marinette, Alya, Nino, Kim, Rose, Ivan and Nathanael went with Madame Tikki. There were no other announcements.

It was strange to be split up. Their class had been together since the beginning. Everyone had finally come to accept Adrien, and Marinette had just recovered too. When they had finally come together, they were all split apart.

When the first break of the day came along, Marinette went to visit the other class. She wanted to see how the other half was fairing without them. All through the morning, she felt like half of her was missing.

When she got there, she talked briefly with Juleka, Mylene, Max, Alix and Sabrina, but even still, she left like she was missing part of herself. So Marinette made her way to the fountain by herself.

They had told her the rumors but she blinked back tears. She needed to know for sure.

Hand holding. Hugging. Kissing. She knew all the steps. She remembers what they all talked about that night when they stayed up late.

Through the garden, past the gazebo, and then through the gate. And then there was the fountain. But Marinette didn’t go through the gate. She only looked around it.

There they were, Chloe and Adrien.

They were talking, whispering things to each other that Marinette couldn’t hear. She turned away before they noticed her, but not before she saw them kiss.  

_How dare they?_

She had expected this, but it did not make her any less angry. She ran back to the school, straight into Alya, and she didn’t say another word for the rest of the day. Alya fretted over her, worried and unable to get the reason for her distress out of her.

“You’re almost as bad as when Chloe and I had a fight. You’re better than us, Mari.”

Marinette didn’t answer her. She just looked away at the sound of Chloe’s name. With no response, Alya moved to hug Marinette, and they stayed like that until class started again.

 

* * *

 

“Marinette, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“We’re in different classes, what did you expect?”

“Yes, but you don’t even walk with me to the fountain anymore.”

Marinette glared at him. She wasn’t even going to try to hide her anger from him. “I don’t feel like going there anymore.”

“Why?” Adrien was taken aback. “What’s wrong Mari?”

He moved to put a hand on her shoulder but she brushed him away. Out of the corner of her eye, Alya caught sight of the two of them and started to walk across the field towards them.

“Marinette, what’s wrong?”

“Go away, Adrien. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

Adrien felt his chest clench and an uncomfortably heat creeping up his spine. “But Mari –”

“Go away!”

Alya ran the remaining distance and pulled Marinette into a hug. She glared at Adrien. “I knew you were bad news from the first time she went to help you.”

There was nothing Adrien could say. He glanced at Marinette once more before he walked away.

 

* * *

 

This was the third time Marinette was sent to headmaster Tikki’s office for fighting with Chloe. Tikki frowned. What happened to the girl she had seen dancing in the nurse’s office?

“Marinette, what’s going on? You two used to be such good friends.”

Tikki still remembers the day Chloe sat in the chair that Marinette was sitting in now, crying her eyes out because she missed her best friend.

“I realized that we are not as good friend as we thought we were. I realized that we’re not friends at all.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

Marinette looked down.

“What is this really about?”

“Chloe is not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

“Marinette, you’ve known each other for your entire life.”

She glanced up and Tikki waited for her to say something. “But that doesn’t mean we really know each other. Like how we’ve been at Francoise Dupont all our lives, and we know why we’re here but we don’t really know. Just as Madame Dupain-Cheng had said.”

“Marinette, you will not talk about that. You will no –”

“But it’s true headmaster.”

“Marinette. You go to Madame Mendeleiev and stay in the disciplinary room until you learn to behave yourself.”

Marinette got up, and left, a deep frown set on her young face. When she was gone, Tikki collapsed in her chair. She had been right. Tikki knew it and it hurt her that Marinette, such a small little girl, would know something like this – it hurt her that this was a truth to be known at all.

As headmaster, Tikki had the power to send Marinette away, but she would have to deal with this problem at some point or another. She had so much power here at Francoise Dupont, but didn’t have the power to make what Marinette said untrue.

She let out a deep and shaky sigh. “I’m sorry Marinette. So, so sorry…”

 

* * *

 

Would you believe it if Adrien said it was all practice?

He had spent his whole life trying to get things right so that he would be accepted. So that he would be loved. Not that it mattered. Adrien never mattered. Even still, the first time Chloe asked him, he turned her down.

Yes, he was curious. He wanted to know what it felt like to kiss someone. More importantly, he wanted to know _how_ to kiss someone. He wanted to get it right. But he did not want to kiss Chloe.

He thought that this was his chance. Francoise Dupont was his opportunity to just live, and enjoy life. No more tests and experiments to perform. No more pleasing other just to be accepted. He had Nino as his friend and Marinette by his side. That was all he needed.

But then Madame Dupain-Cheng told them the truth and everything changed. He woke up in the middle of the night, Nino shaking him awake because he had been screaming in his sleep. Screaming and crying and clawing at his sheets.

All Adrien remembers of those dreams is the man who used to perform experiments on him, but that was all he needed for a shiver to go up his spine.

Madame Dupain-Cheng had told them the truth, but she had been wrong about Adrien. He had not had a life outside of Francoise Dupont. He remembers what the man had told him. Unlike here, he had been clear from day one that Adrien was created for the sole purpose of saving his son. Adrien didn’t matter, but his son did. Adrien was just practice… just a prototype for the real thing.

And Adrien had thought that he had escaped that when he left that place. When the men in black uniforms came and took him to Francoise Dupont, he thought he finally had a chance to live.

It was hard at first, but nothing the boys threw at Adrien could even compare to what the man had done to him before. Rejection hurt. Isolation hurt. It wasn’t that he hadn’t already endured that before, but he was so close to getting what he wanted – friends, human contact, a life – he couldn’t figure out how to take that final step to getting what he wanted for so long.

And then sweet, wonderful Marinette offered him friendship and it was everything he had ever wanted and needed. She showed him kindness when no one else would. She reached out to him and talked to him. She was patient with him and she wanted to get to know him. Adrien could hardly believe it.

He still remembers the first day she helped him. He had been startled and hit her. She fell to the ground and he remembers seeing the ladybug flying off her shoulder.

He knew then and there that she would be his lucky charm.

So he tried his best to paint her in art class. It was ruined, of course. He still resented Kim for it, though, less so now. In any case, he was not an artist. It wasn’t very good, and when Kim made fun of him, the truth of his insult hurt all the more. When he tried a second time, he couldn’t finish in time to submit his work to the gallery. Even though he simplified it – he knew he couldn’t paint Marinette – it was only a ladybug on a tree, like the ones he saw in the school yard, he still couldn’t finish on time.

He kept the unfinished painting rolled up under his bed. He took it out to look at sometimes. He took it out more now that they were in separate classes. He took it out even more when Marinette wouldn’t speak to him.

Sometimes, he would catch himself humming the song on the cassette tape he had given her. The song was one of the few things he remembered from his life before Francoise Dupont that didn’t hurt him now. He wondered if she still listened to it. He wondered about Marinette and he wondered if Francoise Dupont was some kind of miracle. Adrien began to forget all the pain from before Francoise Dupont. He started to live a little.

But when Madame Dupain-Cheng shattered that illusion, the images came flooding back to him. The tests, the experiments. All the blood he had taken. The bone marrow. How much it all hurt. The days he spent lying in bed trying to recover. The empty feeling in his stomach as he counted down the days to the next surgery. The sterile white rooms. The bland, speckled ceiling that he stared at for hours on end. The puking. The nausea and dizziness whenever he stood up. It all rushed back at him and he wanted to cry.

He just wanted to live, and there was Chloe, offering him a little piece of life. Chloe, offering him a chance to get this one thing right. It was like she was offering him a way back to his life before Francoise Dupont and he felt a kind of safety in the familiarity of it. This wasn’t real. This was practice… this didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

It’d all matter later… one day. It would matter for the son. For Marinette, later on. One day.

He knew he would regret it, but he said yes to Chloe anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think c:
> 
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://landofoz.tumblr.com/)


	2. The Cottages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette moves to the cottages, Chloé is lonely, and Adrien regrets everything in his life. Still sticking pretty close to the movie plot line in this chapter.
> 
> WARNINGS: mentions of sex and there's a porn magazine although, the contents are not really described.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is turning out to be longer than I planned. It's going to be five or six parts now.  
> Also, THANK YOU [inkkerfuffle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkkerfuffle/pseuds/Inkkerfuffle) aka [runningoutofink](http://runningoutofink.tumblr.com/) for helping me edit this chapter, you're totally awesome.

The last thing Marinette put away was the cassette tape. She closed the lid of her trunk and looked around her one last time for anything she had forgotten. There was nothing left. She had few belongings and she had packed it all away.

She was eighteen now, and too old to stay at Francoise Dupont. Today was the day that her class was split up and sent to the homes. They would live in these halfway houses until they were old enough to begin their donations.

Marinette lifted her little trunk off the bed and left the dorms. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Alya, carrying a case of her own. The two girls hugged, knowing that their last moment together would be short. They would be going to different homes.

They cried, but left each other with smiles and promises to stay in touch somehow. After, Alya was called away. Her group was set to leave at an earlier time. When Alya was gone,, Marinette walked around the school one last time, remembering moments in her life like, when she had sat in that particular chair, or been in that classroom. She remembered play acting how to order drinks in the drama room, and she remembered all the time she spent in the art room. She still loved to paint and draw.

Then she walked around the yard. She went around the field, she walked by the trees. She even went through the garden, past the gazebo, through the gates and to the fountain. No one was there, so she sat on the bench and took a few moments to breathe in the fresh air and listen to the bubbling water. There was a nice breeze, and a bird singing nearby. It had been a long time since she had come here. She remembers a time when this place was her haven – a little world away from the only world she had ever known. Even before Adrien came along, Marinette would retreat to the fountain for time alone. Francoise Dupont was the only home she had ever known, but she still needed to find a space for herself. Now that she was really leaving, she didn’t want to go. 

Marinette sighed, knowing that time was running out and that she needed to get going. Part of her hoped that Adrien would come to the fountain too. It would be like going back to when they were kids – one last moment here together. But then, part of her was glad that he wasn’t here. This would be her last chance to come to the fountain, and she liked that she got to leave the place as she had found it. By herself. 

When she couldn’t hold it off any longer, Marinette went all the way back to the front of the school and brought her little trunk to the truck waiting outside the school gates. She was hesitant, but she had been resolved to not make a scene of it, and she took her first steps out of Francoise Dupont grounds.

She was in another world now. The real world.

The driver took her trunk and put it in the back of the truck. He grunted and then walked to the front of the truck, taking little notice of Marinette. The way he acted, as if this was all normal. As if Marinette’s whole world hadn’t just shifted.

Marinette climbed into the truck and settled into a corner in the back row of seats, still trying to reconcile with the fact that she was leaving Francoise Dupont. It was cramped, because the driver still had to deliver some good to other establishments in the area, but Marinette didn’t mind sitting next to a case of tomatoes. She looked around her, taking the moment in. She was really outside. She was leaving the school for good. She would never see this place again.

She looked out the window toward the school, taking in how the vines had grown and climbed their way up the brick walls. The building was getting older. Oh, how time passes.

Adrien and Chloé arrived soon after, Adrien carrying both of their cases. He helped the driver stow them away and then climbed into the truck as well. The two of them sat in the middle row of seats, and Marinette ignored them as she said goodbye to her childhood.

And then the driver started the ignition and they were off.

The homes they were placed at were called the cottages. It would be a long drive, but the excitement of discovering the outside made time fly by. On the way, the driver had stopped at another school in the area. He dropped off the tomatoes that had Marinette had been sitting next to, and picked up a small group of students who were also headed to the cottages.

It wasn’t long before they hit the road again, and then they drove for the rest of the day. By the evening, they reached their destination. A quaint little collection of farm buildings and other cottages that acted as a rest stop and center for deliverymen to sort their goods before shipping them off to the local small towns and schools in the area – schools like Francoise Dupont. The main purpose of the cottages, however, was to house the students from the schools in the area until they were of age to begin donations.

There were people from so many other schools, it was like the world opened up to Adrien, Chloé and Marinette. Their cozy little world at Francoise Dupont was gone.

Aside from being able to apply to become a carer and the training that would entail, the students were all left to their own devices. The new arrivals were told that they would be allowed to take day trips into the surrounding countryside, but that they needed to help with some of the farm work. Still, by large, there was plenty of free time.

Marinette got out of the truck with the other new arrivals, glad to be able to stretch her legs. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but it was hard being so close to both Chloé and Adrien. She had spent most of the ride looking out the window, or making small talk with the other new arrivals. She caught Adrien glancing at her a few times, but she pretended not to notice. 

Adrien helped the driver get their luggage out from the back of the truck. One of the women who ran the cottages split the new arrivals up into their buildings. Adrien, Chloé and Marinette were all lucky enough to be in the same building.   

Inside, a girl who introduced herself as Mireille showed the three to their rooms upstairs. There were only two empty rooms. She turned towards the group with a regretful look on her face and said, “We don’t have much space, so I suppose the girls can share and you…”

“Adrien.”

“You can have a room to yourself.”

Chloé frowned. “Actually, Adrien and I will be sharing a room.”

Mireille blinked at her boldness but smiled. “You’re a couple too? They usually keep couples together. You should meet my partner, Theo, later. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see another couple around here.” She stuck her hand out and Chloé dropped her tough act, shaking Mireille’s hand and smiling back at her. Marinette thanked Mireille and shuffled into one of the empty rooms to unpack.

“Oh, and before I forget, we’ve had dinner already but help yourself to anything in the kitchen. The rest of us are going to be in the den – it’s the biggest cottage – if you want to join us after. We only have one TV and we all like to watch shows in the evening.”

Mireille knocked on Marinette’s open door to get her attention. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” she gave her a tired smile and Mireille closed her door as she left. 

Even still, the walls were thin, and the moment Mireille’s footsteps faded, she could hear Chloé complaining in the next room.

“ _ She took the bigger room on purpose. _ ”

_ “Chloé, they’re the same size.” _

“ _ No, I saw inside. She has a closet built into the room. And our closet takes up space. It’s not fair, we’re sharing a room, so we should get the bigger one. _ ”

“ _ It’s fine. This is fine. _ ”

Marinette rolled her eyes and she began to unpack her belongings. There wasn’t much, but the previous occupant of the room had left quite a few things behind. She had to clear out shelves and spaces for her own things. But Marinette was tired and she wanted to eat soon before she slept. She decided she would properly clean up the room another day. For now, she roughly shoved things aside and made her way downstairs. She stepped outside and looked around.

It was getting dark and the temperature had dropped. But Marinette wasn’t bothered by the cold. She just took in her new surroundings. Only this morning, she had been at Francoise Dupont. She had hugged Alya and laughed with her one last time. That was all a world away now.

She took a deep breath of crisp, cold air before she went back inside in search of food.

Marinette’s stomach growled as she opened the refrigerator and took out what seemed to be left over pasta. She looked all around the kitchen for pots and pans to reheat the food. She found plates and utensils. She had always been good at cooking classes back at Francoise Dupont, but she was still surprised to see that the skills she learned there would carry over.

Adrien and Chloé came downstairs soon after. They looked just as tired as she was, and they thanked her for preparing the meal. When they finished, Adrien washed up, as thanks for the food, and Chloé and Marinette stepped outside to see if they could find the cottage that Mireille had been talking about.

They put on their coats and looked at the surrounding buildings.

Chloé didn’t say a word to Marinette, and neither did she, not until they found what they thought was the biggest cottage. The two girls rarely talked anymore, and were almost never alone together. Although they fought less now, their relationship had become one of tolerance out of necessity. When they had found out that they would be separated from the rest of their class and sent to the cottages together with Adrien, they formed a silent truce. They stuck closer together now because they clung onto the little familiarity they had left, but compared to when they were children, their relationship had become a rocky one.

The girls went back to their building to fetch Adrien, and then the three of them made their way to the biggest cottage.

Inside was warm and cozy. There were so many other kids there, all of them were around the same ages as Adrien, Chloé and Marinette. They walked into the den, shy, but Mireille spotted them and beckoned them over. They took seats wherever there was a free spot close to Mireille and a boy who they presumed to be Theo.

He was, in fact, Theo, and he welcomed the three of them as warmly as Mireille had. Marinette could see just from the way they interacted that they were deeply in love. Theo always and an arm around Mireille’s shoulders and she, an arm around his waist, or they would be making contact of some kind.

“So, tell us,” Theo said. “How long have you and Adrien been together?”

Chloé put an arm around Adrien’s waist. “I don’t remember anymore. Since we were children?”

“We were the same,” Mireille smiled. “Theo’s had a crush on me since we were six though we didn’t start going out until we were thirteen.”

Theo blushed, “That’s not true!” Mireille laughed, the affection evident in the way she patted him on the back.

Chloé smiled and laughed with them. Adrien gave a small, polite smile, and looked around the room.

“How long have you been at the cottages?” Adrien asked.

“Over a year now,” Theo said. “We’ll be leaving soon to go to the completion centers.”

Mireille looked down, her face fell. Theo looked at her, pulling her closer and kissing the side of her head. Adrien and Chloé watched them for a moment.

“Guy’s, show’s starting!” Someone called out. Everyone stopped chatting as the commercials gave way to the opening of a sitcom. A couple appeared on screen and everyone focused on the show. Marinette looked around her instead, she watched as Mireille snuggled into Theo’s side and how Theo rest his head on hers. Marinette watched as everyone laughed at the jokes on the show.

But they weren’t that funny.

_ “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” _

_ “Green eyes, blonde hair, and the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen… that doesn’t ring a bell?” _

_ “Yeah, I saw you with him. You went to the movies together, didn’t you?” _

_ “Dan and Jen sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” _

_ “That is so not true!” _

Everyone laughed.

_ “We weren’t in the tree…” _

They laughed harder. Marinette felt out of place. The only other person who looked as awkward as she felt was Adrien, but the two of them didn’t move from their seats. Chloé snuggled into Adrien’s side and he let her. Mari looked away and tried to focus on the show, even if it wasn’t very funny.

After the show was over, they spent the rest of the evening in the den, meeting other residents and finding out where they had come from. There were kids from Morningside, Hailsham, Looming and other schools that Marinette had never heard of. It was all a little overwhelming, and by the time everyone said goodnight to each other and went back to their separate cottages, Marinette found that she missed Alya dearly. When she went back to her room, she cried.

 

* * *

 

 

It was morning, a few weeks after their arrival at the cottages.

Marinette got up, her muscles still aching from the farm work she had been doing. After her arrival, the new arrivals were thrown into their duties. They all had to help out with the tilling, the weeding, the lifting and anything else that needed to be done. Sometimes, they helped the deliverymen load their trucks too. But Mireille came to check on them most days and told them that after their shifts was done and the rotation went to the next group, there would be tons of time for them to do as they pleased. Marinette was actually glad for all the work. It kept her mind off things and she usually finished the day too tired to miss Francoise Dupont.

However, today was their first day off, and Marinette still wanted to keep busy. She wanted to fully enjoy it. Marinette pulled on a sweater and dressed for the cold morning. Outside was still damp from yesterday’s rain and she went downstairs to pull on rubber boots. Just as she had wrapped herself up and was ready to go, Adrien appeared from the kitchen.

He was dressed in a worn shirt, and carried a mug of tea. There was still sleep in his eyes, but as he turned the corner into the lobby, he perked up.

“Hey.” he said, his voice shy as he looked at her, the subtle hint of a smile appearing on his face.

Marinette turned to him. “Hi.” She smiled at him but wasn’t sure what to say beyond that. Since their fall out at Francoise Dupont, they only ever made polite conversation when it was necessary.

“Where are you going?” He asked in a quiet voice. The rest of the house was still asleep. This was the first time they had been alone together since they arrived at the cottages - it was the first time they had been alone together in a long time. 

“I thought I’d take a walk,” she answered, pulling on gloves as well.

Adrien put a hand on the railing of the staircase as if he needed the support and seemed to crumple in on himself. He shrank, his frame looked smaller as his face fell and he looked down. “Does that mean… you want to be alone?”

Marinette’s mouth parted, but she stopped herself from saying anything. Instead, she smiled at him. When he didn’t hear an answer, Adrien looked up. He was taken aback by her smile, but then smiled in response. He left his tea on the side table before he ran upstairs, quickly gathering his things to join her. 

Neither of them knew what to say. A long time ago, talking to each other was easy, but right then, the silence seemed to suit the moment better. Still, Adrien would run and splash around in the puddles, and Marinette would laugh. It brought her back to their younger days, when things were so much easier, but she realized that even without words, Adrien’s presence was a comfort. They went into the woods, following the sound of birds chirping down a worn path. Adrien turned around, waiting for Marinette to catch up to him, but he couldn’t quite keep still. He was bouncing on the spot and smiling back at her. 

Marinette smiled in return, and Adrien’s whole face lit up. When Marinette felt a warmth spreading through her chest, she ignored it and told herself that she had overdressed. 

They went deeper into the woods and Adrien wanted to say something to break the silence, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. It seemed, the silence that had grown between them had become easier than the words they used to share. But this silence, unlike that of their fallout, was a comfort. It was an unspoken feeling… a shared silence. 

It had been a long time since they had been alone together. Back at Francoise Dupont, after their fallout, she didn’t speak to him for weeks – that silence had been cold and one sided. When Marinette did finally speak with him, her words were scathing, and he retreated from her. He took out his unfinished painting of a ladybug and stared at it for long hours until Nino snapped him out of his reverie. He would sit at the fountain, waiting for Marinette to come, but she never did. Chloé would come to him in her stead, and she became all he had. 

When their class was reunited again, Adrien saw her every day, but they never spoke. She made sure to keep her distance, and Alya was always with her. When the art classes started up again, all Adrien would paint were ladybugs. He submitted them every year, just as he had promised Marinette, though Monsieur Plagg only took it the first time he submitted the painting. He hoped that Marinette would approach him and ask about his paintings because clearly she wouldn’t approach him otherwise. Art was the only thing connecting the two of them, and Adrien held on to his promise. It was only in their last year at Francoise Dupont, when they found out that they would be going to the cottages together, that Marinette began to speak with him again, and when she did, it hit him even harder how much he really missed her.

He had spent so many years watching her from a distance. They were always in the same class and always so close to each other. He would hear her laughing and joking with Alya and be curious. He would see her painting and he would want to know what it was. Adrien spent so many years hoping that she would let him back into her life - and then through some stroke of luck, they were grouped together, and she approached him. It was just a simple hello, but he savored it. 

They circled back, out of the woods, to walk around the field. Adrien kept running ahead and stopping to wait for Marinette to catch up. Every time he did so, he hoped to see her smiling or laughing at him again. And every time she smiled at him, he felt his heart flutter. As the sun rose and the clouds cleared, it grew warmer and Marinette took off her scarf and gloves. It was turning out to be a wonderful day. Adrien grew tired from all his running and fell back to match his pace with Marinette’s. His face was flush as he caught his breath and Marinette glanced at him from the corner of her eye. They walked for a long time like that, no words. Just side by side. His hand brushed hers. Once, twice. A third time.

He didn’t dare to push his luck.

 

* * *

 

Mireille came over to their cottage with Theo. When Marinette and Adrien returned to the cottage, Mireille was teaching Chloé to cook breakfast. Chloé had never been good at cooking class, but Mireille was patient with her.

Marinette and Adrien took off their coats and joined Theo at the table, and everyone greeted each other. Chloé prepared the plates and divided the food. She brought Adrien and herself a plate and then she sat down. Mireille served Marinette, Theo, and herself before taking as seat as well.

“Some of the others have said that I would be a good carer, and I don’t know. Do you think they’ll really choose me to be a carer?” Chloé started.

“Well first you have to apply,” Mireille said. “Are you thinking of applying?” She took a bite of toast and slapped at Theo’s hand when he stole a piece of bacon from her plate, laughing.

“I don’t know, what do you think, Adrien. Should I apply?” Chloé looked at Adrien. He lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth, chewed, and swallowed as he thought about it.

“It’s up to you, Chloé.” He said, and continued on with his breakfast. Chloé stared at him and then stole a piece of bacon off Adrien’s plate, and began to chew on it. She turned back to Mireille.

“Anyway, I was just saying that some of the others  _ said _ I would be a good carer. And then Aurore said that I would be the worst carer, and I might not be the best but  _ that’s so not true. _ ”

Mireille gasped, agreeing. “So not true!”

“Right?” Chloé said. She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it’s just what they were saying.”

Marinette watched the scene before her and raised an eyebrow. Chloé had changed since they came to the cottages, but this was just too much. Sure, since Adrien had come between them, most of her interactions with Chloé were fights and arguments, but Marinette still knew Chloé. The girl in front of her now was an entirely different person - she was copying Mireille in the way she acted and the way she spoke. The worst was that Chloé sounded so much like Mireille and Marinette couldn’t figure out why it bothered her so much.

After breakfast, Mireille and Theo offered to help clean up, but Marinette insisted on doing the cleaning. Adrien walked the couple to the door and Chloé helped clear the table. When they were alone in the kitchen, Marinette turned to Chloé.

“Why do you do that thing?” Marinette asked, still holding a dishrag as she cleaned the used plates.

“What thing?” Chloé shrugged her shoulders, and Marinette couldn’t know whether she was faking ignorance or if the blonde really didn’t see what she was doing. 

“Steal Adrien’s food.”  Marinette pressed, turning around as she continued her task, dipping her hands into the soapy water.

Chloé brought the last of the plates from the table and put them into the sink. She started to rinse the dishes. “I just wanted to.” 

“That’s what Mireille and Theo do.”

“That’s so no –”

“That’s so not true?” Marinette interrupted. “People don’t really act like they do in those shows. And people don’t just go around copying each other all the time.” She almost said that it was fake, but she knew Chloé would take it badly. 

“What does this matter anyway?”

“You’re pretending to be something you’re not because you think you can get Mireille and Theo to like you just by copying them.”  _ You’re changing so much and I don’t know you anymore. _

“Oh Mari. I see what this is about.” Chloé turns away and starts to rinse the dishes. “It must be awful for you to be surrounded by couples.”

“I never said that.” Marinette glared at Chloé. Was she really going to turn this around on her?

“You’re just jealous.”

“Don’t put word in my mouth.” Marinette was furious now.

“But I’m right, aren’t I? You’re jealous that Adrien and I are friends with Mireille and Theo when you just sit in your room all the time by yourself, missing our friends back at Francoise Dupont.” Her words stung, and Marinette blinked back tears. “But they’re gone, Marinette. And we’re here now.”

“No, that’s not right.” Marinette shakes her head, but there’s a truth to what Chloé’s said and it hurts all the more.

Chloé drops the dishes in the sink, grabbing a towel to dry her hands. “Don’t you mean  _ it’s so not true _ ?”

Marinette opens her mouth to say something but Chloé throws the towel back down on the counter and walks away. They’re both fuming, and Marinette just wants to scream. She abandons the remaining dishes and pushes past Adrien just as he gets back from seeing Mireille and Theo to the door. Marinette doesn’t hear Adrien as he calls after her.

He wants to chase after Marinette, but Chloé yells for him and he retreats back into their home.

 

* * *

 

It’s hours before Marinette returns to the cottages. All that time, she wandered through the woods, trying to cool off. When she returns, so goes to the den instead of back to the cottage. She eats lunch and finds books to read on the shelf and ignores all the other residents. But when Theo sees her and keeps her company for a while, she doesn’t turn him away.

“Did you have a gallery at Looming as well?”

“No, but I still love art. I used to make sculptures all the time.”

“What did you make?”

“Mireille. I loved looking at her and trying to recreate an image of her.”

“You really love her, don’t you?”

“She’s beautiful to me. She’s all I have.” A small dreamy smile appeared on Theo’s face and the look in his eyes tells Marinette that it’s true love.

“You should show me a sculpture sometime. I’d love to see your work.”

“Of course.”

They chat for a while longer, and then Theo leaves to get his sculptures. Marinette continues to read on and off, and when Theo gets back, the afternoon is already gone. Instead of going back to her cottage for dinner, she joins Theo at his cottage and she talks to Aurore throughout the meal. Everything is lovely and Marinette almost forgets the horrible morning she had.

Almost.

It’s late in the evening, and Marinette doesn’t feel like watching TV. Instead, she finally returns to her cottage with scraps of fabric that Aurore had lying around. Marinette had always loved sewing, but after brief classes at Francoise Dupont, she never had the chance to take it up again. She planned to make herself a bag with the pink cloth, but she wasn’t sure what to do with the blue and yellow cloth.

She takes her things upstairs and clears a space on her desk to start working. She had wanted to spend the day properly cleaning her room – it was still filled with the previous occupant’s belongings – but then the morning happened, and she stayed away. Perhaps tomorrow, she would have a chance.

She takes out a sketchbook and starts to draw a design. She can hear Chloé and Adrien in the next room, but she tries hard to ignore them. It doesn’t work.

“ _ Adrien, we don’t have to hide here. And we have a bed to ourselves. _ ”

“ _ Another time Chloé.” _

_ “But everyone is at the den. We’re all alone here.” _

_ “Chl – oh. _ ”

Marinette hears him moan and she drops her pencil. She might not have known a lot about love, sex and relationships, but  _ that  _ sound coming from Adrien was enough to make her stomach churn. The entire building is empty except for the three of them, but Marinette feels like the world has never been smaller. Her skin tingles, and she can’t tell what this restless, agitation she feels is exactly. All she knows is that she can’t breathe, and she can’t take  _ this. _

She would be lying if she said she didn’t know about the nature of Chloé and Adrien’s relationship. Lying if she said she didn’t know what happened whenever they disappeared to the fountain together – especially when they got older. But it wasn’t real before. As long as Marinette didn’t see them or hear them - as long as she didn’t have confirmation, she could ignore it and pretend that it wasn’t happening. 

But she never had to be this close to them. She never had to listen to them.  _ This _ she could not ignore.

Marinette lets out a sob when she hears Chloé moaning with him. That’s when she knows she can’t take it anymore. She jumps out of her bed, and opens a drawer, desperately rummaging through the things inside until she finds what she’s looking for. She opens the little box and shoves the cassette tape into the player and turns up the volume as loud as it will go. It helps. 

_ ‘Darling, hold me, hold me, hold me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

_ ‘Darling, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

‘ _ Lock my heart. Throw away the key. Fill my love. Ecstasy _ .’

Marinette holds her pillow and sobs into it. She’s glad that the music is loud enough to drown out the sound of Chloé and Adrien in the other room, because at least she knows for sure that they cannot hear her crying.

_ ‘Bind my heart with your warm embrace and tell me no one will never take my place.’ _

_ ‘Darling, tell me, tell me, tell me you’ll never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never…’ _

As the song begins to fade, Marinette presses repeat. Brass instruments fill her ears again and she sobs.

This is the closest thing to relief as she will get.

 

* * *

 

 

She’s taking out the trash when she finds it in the dust bin.

A porn magazine.

Marinette can’t help but be curious – not about sex. She’s curious about the women in the pictures. What do they look like? Do men like this? She looks around, making sure that there’s no one around. Once she felt safe, she quickly reaches inside the bin, hiding the magazine inside of her sweater, and then throws out the trash like she’d been doing before her discovery. She’ll look at it later when she has time.

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette does not take any more morning walks.

It’s not her shift, but Marinette often volunteers to help the other groups on the farm. She spends more and more time outside and keeping herself busy. In the evening, she brings her sewing to the den where she can be surrounded by other residents and still feel as if she has all the room in the world. Sometimes, Theo comes by and they talk about art. She likes looking at his sculptures and he likes to look at her sketches and designs.

She’s only at her cottage when she needs to be. When she really wants to be alone, Marinette goes to one of the barns, as far away from her room,  _ and theirs,  _ as she can. It’s where the hay is kept and no one is ever there. It’s where she goes to write her letters to Alya and cry when she misses her. Marinette’s sent three letters now, but she hasn’t received any replies.

Despite rarely being at the cottage, Chloé still manages to catch Marinette one morning before she goes to help out in the fields.

She knocks on Marinette’s door. “Marinette, can we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Her voice was ruder than what she meant to, but at this point Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to keep their tenuous truce going. 

“Has Theo told you?”

“Told me what?” Marinette turns around, exasperated and short with Chloé. She wants her to get to the point so that she can get on with her day. She doesn’t have the time or patience to deal with whatever it is Chloé wants. 

“Well you know how Mireille and Theo want to apply to be carers? And Mireille wants to learn to drive so she can improve her chances?”

“Yes.”

“They went to Calais to practice driving, and…” Chloé pauses. She steps into the room and takes a seat on the desk chair. “…they think… they saw a woman.”

They saw people every day. It wasn’t a big deal. Marinette shrugged, “What’s so special about her?”

“They think she’s possible. Fo-for me.”

Marinette’s eyes go wide and she stops getting dressed. Despite the status of her relationship with Chloé, Marinette knows how important this is. She walks over to Chloé and puts and hand on her shoulder. “They found your original.”

“They’re not sure. They saw her from a distance, but they think it’s her. They said they can take me to go see her so that I can make sure myself. B-but they said that the resemblance is really striking and I. I want to see for myself.”

“Oh my god.” Marinette breathes out, she can’t even imagine what Chloé feels. 

“Adrien said he’ll come, but…” Chloé trails off. She swallows hard and bites her lip. Marinette squeezes her shoulder in comfort.

It’s been a long time since then, but Chloé and Marinette were once friends. They were once  _ really _ close friends. And despite all that’s happened between the two of them, they were still cared for each other. Here at the cottages, all they had was each other. “Do you want me to come?”

Chloé’s biting her lip harder and laughing nervously. She looks down and nods. “Will you? Please, do.”

“Of course, Chloé.” Marinette bends down to her level and hugs her. Chloé hugs back and the two stay like that for a moment longer.

When Chloé leaves, Marinette does not go into the fields to help. She takes the day off and she takes a walk in into the woods and back around the fields and then around the cottages instead.

She wonders. Where is  _ her _ original?

 

* * *

 

 

It’s raining and Mireille and Theo cannot drive them to Calais that day.

Marinette goes to the barn, porn magazine hidden underneath her sweater. She needs to be alone right now. When she gets there, she pulls open the wooden door and finds a stool to sit on by the wooden table. She pulls out the magazine, and starts to flip through the pages faster than anyone flipping through a porn mag usually would.

There are women in various poses and stages of undress. All of them wear expressions of pleasure. They are not what she is looking for.

“Hi Adrien,” she calls out, curt. She had been aware of him standing by the barn door. He had probably followed from their cottage.

“Mari.” He answers, not moving from his current place. 

Marinette doesn’t look up from the magazine, “don’t just stand in the rain. Come inside.”

Adrien slinks into the barn. His hair is wet, and so is his shirt. He wanders to where Marinette is and watches her. He peers over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing, isn’t it obvious?”

“But why are you looking at a porn magazine? For pleasure?” The barn is huge, but Adrien feels too close, and his voice too loud in her ears. There’s a scent about him, and in this musty barn, it fills Marinette’s head.

She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. “Sure, you could say that.” She wasn’t exactly sure she could explain why. After her talk that morning with Chloé, Marinette couldn’t put off looking at the magazine any longer. She was curious and she needed to know - could  _ her _ original be in here?

“You’re going too fast then. It does nothing if you look that fast.”

Marinette looks up momentarily to raise an eyebrow at Adrien. “How do you know what works for girls?”

Adrien holds back a chuckle but he smiles, eyebrows raised, “Marinette, you’re not looking for pleasure.”

She doesn’t say anything, and makes a point not to look at Adrien. He can see the blush on her face anyway. She finishes flipping through the magazine and then shoves it at Adrien. “Here.” As she leaves the barn, she calls back to him. “Maybe it’ll do something so you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Five of them sat in a diner.

Theo and Mireille sat on one side, and Adrien, Chloé and Marinette were crammed on the other side. The waitress had her pencil and pad in hand. “So what will it be?”

Adrien, Chloé and Marinette stared blankly at their menus. Everything they had learned and practiced at Francoise Dupont disappeared from their minds. Theo and Mireille smiled at them, waiting patiently. The waitress sighed and turned to the couple instead, hoping that they had made up their minds.

“Sausage, egg, and chips please,” Theo said, chuckling.

The waitress turned back to Adrien, Chloé and Marinette.

“Sausage, egg and chips please.”

“Sausage, egg and chips please.”

“Sausage, egg and chips please.”

Mireille laughed. “I guess I’ll have sausage, egg and chips too.”

“Five sausage, egg and chips. Alright then.” The waitress noted, writing it down on her little pad, “Drinks?” She asked, looking at the group again.

The three Francoise Dupont students looked up slowly, begging for mercy.

Theo gave them a sympathetic smile and then turned to the waitress. “Five… cokes, please.”

The waitress took the menus and left to place their orders. Adrien, Chloé and Marinette collapsed back into the seats, glad that the ordeal was over and thankful for Theo. Food came soon after and they all ate. Marinette tried to take in the fact that she was really in the outside world. She was no longer in Francoise Dupont, but she wasn’t in the little bubble world of the cottages either. She was really here and she needed to use what they’d learnt to integrate with the outside world. She’d do better next time.

When they were done eating, they leaned back in their seats. Theo and Mirelle shared a nervous look and after a few more seconds of silence, she spoke, “So, Theo and I wanted to ask you all something.”

“It’s not easy to talk about at the cottages.” Theo continued, keeping his arm around Mireille, silently supporting each other as they talked. “Not with everyone around all the time.”

“What is it?” Chloé asked, eager to help her friends.

Mireille looks up at Theo for support before she turns back to them and starts. “We heard stories. Francoise Dupont students are special.”

“You see,” Theo takes over, “we heard this story about a couple from Francoise Dupont who got a deferral. Apparently you guys can get your first donation put back for three or even… four years.”

Marinette sat up, her expression grew serious as she listened to Mireille and Theo laugh nervously and continue their story. Chloé and Adrien seemed to do the same, but they all just stared blankly back at the couple in front of them. Marinette had never heard of anything like this, and she was sure Chloé and Adrien hadn’t heard anything like this either.

“That is,” Mireille said, “as long as they qualified.” Her eyes looked hopeful and so did Theo’s. They both had an arm around each other, Marinette noticed. She didn’t know what to say.

It was Adrien who broke the silence. “What are the qualifications?”

“It has to be a couple. They have to prove that they were in love with each other – really, truly in love. And if they could prove it.” Theo swallows, his voice sounded desperate. “Then they would be given a few years together before they began their donations.”

“Where did you hear about this?” Marinette asked.

“At Dunkirk. They were always going on about this Francoise Dupont couple. When the guy was only a few weeks from donation, he applied and then everything got sorted out. Just a few weeks from donation, and then suddenly he had years ahead of him.”

The three of them didn’t know what to say.

“You three would know about that, wouldn’t you?” Mireille looked right at Chloé. “Being from Francoise Dupont, you would know how it works.”

Theo pressed on, looking at Adrien, hopeful for an answer. “Who would we go to? If we wanted to apply, who would we need to talk to?”

The three of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Marinette shook her head and Chloé looked down.

Adrien sighed. “To be honest, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“None of us do,” Marinette added.

“Do you really expect us to believe that? Come on.” Theo sounded angry, it was obvious he’d put a lot of faith in this possibility, and he wasn’t about to let it go just yet. “Everybody knows Francoise Dupont is special. Surely they gave you something.”

“What’s the use of keeping it to yourself?” Mireille added, appealing to their emotions, “We’re just asking for a little help. Please. We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

Marinette swallowed hard and looked Theo in the eye. She shook her head again. “There were many stories at Francoise Dupont.” She remembers telling Adrien stories of children who died when they left the school grounds… and she remembers how he questioned them. “I don’t think many of them turned out to be true.”

It took a minute for her words to settle in. Mireille covered her mouth. Her eyes were watering and Theo looked helpless. Even still, they clung to each other, tighter now than ever. All Adrien, Chloé and Marinette could do was sit there awkwardly and offer silent comfort. But Marinette knew that the couple would not recover from this. They were useless to help.

After they finished their meal, Theo and Mireille took Adrien, Chloé and Marinette to a building at the corner of an intersection. There were huge windows and they could all see inside. The three of them crowded around, peering inside and looking at the workers in uniform.

“She was in there.” Theo said, his voice broken. He was still devastated. Still trying to accept the fact that he and Mireille had run out of time.

The three stepped closer to the glass and looked inside.

“Is that her?”

“No, what about that one?”

“Look, I think it might be her.”

They all focused on a woman with blonde hair tied in a ponytail. She was sitting facing away from the window. Chloé held her breath.

Mireille watched the three of them. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“Turn around,” Marinette said quietly. “Come on, turn around.”

Whoever the woman’s client was stood up and so did the woman. Now all three of them held their breaths as they watched the woman and her client shake hands. The woman turned to show her client the way –

Chloé exhaled, disappointed.

It wasn’t her. She was much too old. It wasn’t her at all.

 

* * *

 

“Chloé it was really close, come on.” Adrien said. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder but Chloé turned on him and pushed him away.

“No! We look nothing alike!” She cried, stalking away as she tried to get her bearings. In typical Chloe fashion, she lashed out. “I knew it wouldn’t be her before we even got here!”

“Calm down Chloé, don’t do this,” Marinette said.

Mireille and Theo were waiting back in the parking lot by the car. The three of them had walked a short distance away and stood on the beach.

“They never model us on people like that woman!”

“Chloé stop it.” Adrien tried to calm her down, but it wasn’t working. She pushed Adrien away a second him.

“No. We all know it, we just never say it,” she spat. She leaned in to look Marinette in the eyes but she turned away. “No one wants to acknowledge it, so we never say it. We are modeled on  _ trash. _ ”

Marinette was shaking her head. She turned and walked closer to the shore as Chloé continued.

“Junkies, whores. Tramps, thieves, convicts and whatever else they can find in a gutter.” She was crying as she said all this. Adrien turned away from the two girls and looked out over the ocean while Marinette turned back to Chloé. “So long as they’re not psychotic or sick. That’s who we’re modeled after. God, if I wanted to find my original, I should have just looked in the trash bin.”

Chloé stalked away, angry, and Adrien threw a rock into the water. Marinette just slumped back and sat in the sand. She supposed it was only fair. The three of them had disappointed Mireille and Theo, so they gave them disappointment in return.

Adrien took a seat next to her. He picked up another rock and threw it into the water.

Marinette ignored him. She watched the rolling waves and listened to the seagulls flying overhead. Adrien watched her, taking in the sight of her profile. The soft curve of her chin and the slope of her nose. The setting sun reflected in her eyes and her cheeks were pink from the wind and covered in freckles from her hard work in the fields under the sun. She looked so beautiful, but so sad.

After staying like that for a few moments, Adrien broke the silence. “We should be getting back,” he whispered. Marinette turned to him. She watched the wind blowing through his hair. The golden light in his blond hair practically made him glow. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her and she saw herself in them.

She nods but neither move. They just stare at each other, saying nothing but it’s not like they need to. Chloé had said it all anyway, the truth that none of them wanted to admit to. It’s not until Theo comes to get them that they make their way back to the car.

 

* * *

 

 

The ride back was a long and awkward one. Both the couples in the car were disappointed and everyone was silent, no one was in the mood for small talk, and the fact that no one tried to force it was appreciated. Adrien stuck his hand out the window, feeling the wind through his fingers and Chloé sat in the corner, hugging herself. Mireille had long given up on pretending to be alright and wept openly. She held Theo’s left hand, and he drove with the other.

The silence gave Marinette a lot of time to think. About her original. About her donations. About deferrals. There was only one way to get a deferral for sure that she knew of, and it had nothing to do with being a student of Francoise Dupont, or being in love and proving that love.

It was to be a carer.

But that was a lonely, solitary job. One where she would have to move around a lot. She would never be in one place. She would travel all over France, taking care of different donors and moving to wherever she was needed or called to. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that her life was already like that. Hadn’t she already lost everyone she cared about when she left Francoise Dupont? All that was left was Chloé and Adrien, and she knew that once the donations started, she wouldn’t see them for much longer. The revelation made her even more certain of her decision.

It would be ideal. It would be the best way to find her original.

When they got back, it was night time, but there were still deliverymen around. Theo and Mireille went back to their cottage, Mireille in tears and Theo consoling her. Chloé was equally distraught and Adrien ran after her, trying to make sure that she was alright.

Marinette went to find one of the deliverymen. She found him putting away boxes at the store house.

“I want to be a carer. It’s you who I apply to, isn’t it?” She asked the man.

He placed the box on top of a shelf and turned towards her, “Yeah.” he nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“So then, I’m applying,” she said firmly.

The man offered a noncommittal shrug. “I’ll bring the forms tomorrow. That will start the process.”

Marinette walked away. The cold night air bringing her to her senses. Was she really going to do this? She swallowed hard and despite the disappearing light, took a walk around the fields – it was too late to go into the woods.

She hadn’t fully thought this out yet, but as she tried to talk herself out of her decision, she ended up convincing herself of it. She started to form plans. She could find maps when she went into town for her training. She would see people from all over France. She could start asking at the hospitals that were linked to the cloning program. She could do this. By the time Marinette made it back to the cottages from her walk, she had outlined a starting point for her search. Somehow she knew that this was the right decision.

It’s very late when Marinette gets back, but sitting now, in her room, she firmly believes that she has made the right decision.

She doesn’t know what Chloé and Adrien are doing exactly in the other room, but she had heard enough – short breaths, a moan, and the squeak of the bed – to turn on the cassette player.

Marinette wonders if this will become a regular thing, holding herself and crying herself to sleep. Even though she spends all her time away from the cottage, these moments are still unavoidable - these nights when the two of them need each other more than anything and Marinette is all alone. At least, if she’s accepted to be a carer. She won’t have to put up with this for much longer.

_ ‘Darling, hold me, hold me, hold me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

_ ‘Darling, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

‘ _ Lock my heart. Throw away the key. Fill my love. Ecstasy _ .’

_ ‘Bind my heart with your warm embrace and tell me no one will never take my place.’ _

_ ‘Darling, tell me, tell me, tell me you’ll never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never…’ _

Before she presses repeat again, Marinette opens her eyes and sees Chloé standing in her doorway. She’s wrapped herself in a robe and s and there’s a smugness about her. She walks in, shaking her head at Marinette.

“I know what you think, Marinette. You think that you and Adrien make the better couple.” Her voice is shaking. The smugness wavers.

Marinette sits up in her bed, but she doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even wipe away her tears. She was far too surprised to see her in her room. Especially since she thought Chloé was  _ busy _ . 

“And you think that there’s a chance we’ll break up, and maybe when we do, that will be your chance to be with him. A chance to do it right.” Chloé smiles and seats herself on the side of Marinette’s bed. The mattress dips under her weight and Marinette sits up straighter. Chloé leans in close, and her voice drops to a whisper, but the lack of volume didn’t mean that her words lacked venom. “But, you see. The thing is, Mari, Adrien doesn’t see you that way. You’re just a really good friend of his. He’ll never see you as anything more than that.”

Marinette can barely see Chloé’s face in the darkness, but there’s an unsettling glint in her eyes. Chloé chuckles to herself and continues, “I know about the porn magazines. Adrien and I had a good laugh about that when he told me.”

Chloé’s face is so close to hers she can feel Chloé’s breath on her as she speaks. Marinette’s every muscle is tense and on alert. The truce they had for their trip to Calais was over, and war had started again. “Adrien doesn’t understand what you were doing. But  _ I do. _ ” She chuckles again, and then reaches out and leans in, Chloés fingers touching the other girl’s jaw, tilting her up before Chloé pulls Marinette to her, kissing her on the lips.

Marinette breath hitches in her throat and her eyes widened almost comically. It’s her first kiss and she can’t make sense of this whole situation.

The kiss lasted barely a second and Chloé backs away, but only slightly, “I understand, Mari,” she whispers again, this time against her lips. Chloé stares at her for a moment longer, a strange smile on her face and the glint still in her eye, and then she leaves.

Marinette doesn’t sleep that night.

 

* * *

 

They had accepted her to become a carer.

Marinette was glad. After all, it was essential to her plans, and becoming one meant less time at the cottages. Marinette was taken off the farm work rotation and driven into town with by the deliverymen on their regular trips. There, she would learn about hospital procedures and keeping her donors healthy. There were endless lessons on nutrition and health. She kept a notebook where she wrote down notes from the lessons, like the types of donations and the type of surgery required. She learned about the surgeries that would be most fatal and the likelihood of donors completing on the first donation.

In the back of her mind, Marinette was vaguely aware that she would be going through all of this one day too. She viewed the pictures and slides of the procedures and surgeries with a kind of clinical detachment. She wasn’t sure if knowing made her feel any better about the inevitability of it all.

Most days, when Marinette got back to the cottages, it was late at night and everyone had already gone to sleep. She was thankful for that. Sometimes, when she got back, she would see Theo and Mireille outside their cottage, arguing in hushed whispers. She doesn’t need to try to listen in to know what they are arguing about, and she feels sorry for them. Neither of them had been selected to become a carer, and she still thinks about the disappointment she brought on them.

When Marinette is at the cottage, she would study her notes and do her own research. To relax, she would draw her designs and sew. She finally finished the bag made of fabric from Aurore, and she took on new projects. She finally figured out what to do with the other materials and made a blue scarf and a yellow dress as well. Between studying and training, she collected maps and started to learn more about herself. She tried her best to think of something about herself that would help pinpoint the location of her original.

She doesn’t know why she wants to find her. Maybe it was what Chloé had said about being modeled after trash. Maybe she just wanted to prove her wrong.

In any case, she never had any time to see Chloé or Adrien, and it was a relief. When they were awake, she was in town. When she was at the cottages, they would be asleep. On a few rare occasions, Chloé woke up in the middle of the night, just as Marinette got home. They sat in the kitchen, drinking tea. They made small talk, but Chloé didn’t have much to say about life at the cottages. It was mundane and Marinette already knew all about it. There wasn’t anything Chloé could talk about except petty cottage gossip, and it seemed insignificant now that Marinette was making regular trips to a Calais – to a world beyond this bubble.

On the other hand, Marinette didn’t feel like talking about her training as a carer. She was too tired, and when she started learning about the surgeries, it got too complicated to explain. She was glad that neither of them would bring up Adrien, and neither of them brought up the kiss either. Though, Marinette’s sure that Chloé would never be the one to bring it up, she thinks Chloé wanted her to.

But Marinette was lonely. She saw Chloé and Adrien less and less. Although she had her work, sometimes she would listen to the cassette tape. Other times, she stayed up and wrote letters to Alya. The letters helped the most, even though she never got a reply. Maybe she would be less lonely when she became a proper carer. She would look for her original in her free time and have donors who would rely on her. She would be too busy to worry about things like this. But she had been warned about the distress of going through her donors’ completion, and there was never any guarantee that she would find her original. Marinette could only hope that one day, she would find what she needed. In the meantime, she would keep busy.

It was all she could do.

 

* * *

 

 

On one of the days that Marinette had off, she felt like taking a walk.

She had been cooped up in the hospital and in her room for too long, and her instructors had given her notice that she would soon be moving into the city to continue her training. There wasn’t much time left for her to enjoy the rural countryside. Marinette didn’t know if she would miss the cottages like she missed Francoise Dupont, but she did love the long walks into the woods and around the fields. So she put aside her studying and research, got up earlier and dressed for the cool morning.

She was surprised when she saw Adrien sitting at the bottom of the stairs, but she didn’t say anything to him either. He had his coat and boots on. Clearly he had been waiting for her. She didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Neither of them said anything as they left the cottages. They walked into the woods, following the worn path. It was when they were well into the thicket when Adrien finally broke the silence. 

“Theo and Mireille were really devastated about the deferral, weren’t they?” Adrien asks. 

Marinette had seen them last night as she came back from town, crying and arguing outside their cottage. She’s lost count how many times she’s seen that scene play out now. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what the couple was like while she was in town. “I’ve heard them yelling and crying.”

“Theo doesn’t talk to me anymore when he sees me in the den, and Mireille’s stopped coming around to visit Chloé.”

“That’s too bad. They were really good to us.” Marinette looks down. She knows that Theo and Mireille began to resent Marinette even more when she was accepted to be a carer - neither of them had been accepted.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it. The deferrals.”

“So?”

“Let’s just pretend for a minute that they were real. That it was possible to get one. How would they know people weren’t just lying about it – pretending they were in love to push back their donations?”

Marinette stopped walking. She sat down on the slope running along the side of the path and looked up at Adrien. “I don’t know. How?”

It was obvious that Adrien had given this some real thought, “What about the gallery?”

“What about it?” She asked, not completely following what Adrien was getting at.

“Painting and art. Don’t they say that art can show you a person’s soul?”

With everything that had happened, Marinette wasn’t sure she believed in that anymore. “I suppose.”

Adrien knelt down so that he could be level with Marinette. He smiled nervously. “Well, couldn’t they use that to tell if we were – we –” Adrien gives a short laugh, a small blush tinging his cheeks as he tried to get her to understand, “they could see if it was a lie or if we’re really in love? They would be able to look at our art and see if we were telling the truth or lying.”

“Adrien, that’s a ridiculous idea.” She told him. The light in his eyes as he explained to her his theories almost made her fall for it. But there was no point in getting their hopes up over something that was probably not true. 

“What? I don’t think so. I think it could be true.”

“Are you thinking of applying then? With Chloé?”

Adrien shook his head, his eyes were watering but he was smiling at Marinette. “No,” he said, his voice a breathy whisper. He let the word sink in. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Why?”

“Because it wouldn’t work. Not with her.” Adrien looked Marinette right in the eyes. His gaze was intense, filled with words and things that neither of them dared to speak out loud. Years of mistakes and wrong decisions that were too hard to face. 

_ Not with her. Not with her. _ The words echoed in her head. Marinette didn’t even realize when it happened, but she began to cry. He couldn’t say these things, not right now. “It’s all just rumors and theories.” She told him, her voice frail and barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I know.” Adrien looks away. He’s grasping at straws and they both know it. “You have so much in the gallery. You were so talented, they took your work every year.”

She nods.

“But they never took my paintings – once. Monsieur Plagg took it once. They’d have nothing to go on for me.”

Marinette didn’t let him finish. Before he can say another word, she pushes herself off the slope. Even if what he said was true, they couldn’t do anything about it now. Adrien had nothing to show for it, and Marinette - she was leaving the cottages soon. 

“Oh Adrien,” she said before she started back to the cottage. She took brisk steps, going faster and faster until she was running all the way back. Adrien just stayed as he was, kneeling on the ground and listening to her fading footsteps.

 

* * *

 

Marinette had been at the cottages for a little less than a year, and she is surprised to find herself packing her things again. She searches for her belongings underneath the clutter and things left behind by the previous occupant. She never really got the chance to properly clean out the room, and now that she was leaving it just as she had found it – filled with someone else’s stuff – she feels like the room was never really hers. It suddenly hits her that her time here was just temporary. She was never going to stay at the cottages anyway.

She has a few more belongings than when she first arrived, but otherwise, nothing really differs from last year. Last year she left Francoise Dupont. This year, she’ll leave the cottages.

Chloé and Adrien would stay for a few more months. They hadn’t gotten their donation notices yet. They still had time to enjoy their lives, but their days were numbered. Marinette knows she’ll miss them because this time she’ll be all alone in leaving. Rocky relationships or not, she won’t have anyone to turn to. No familiarity to fall back on. Marinette finishes packing away all her things but leaves the blue scarf and yellow dress that she made on her bed and leaves a note. She’s sure they’ll be happy when they find them.

Marinette lugs her trunk down the stairs. There’s a deliveryman waiting for her and he helps stow her trunk in the back.

“Can I have a moment?” Marinette asks. The deliveryman grunts, but nods. He takes out a cigarette and leans on the back of the truck as he starts to smoke. Marinette thanks him and starts her walk into the woods.

It’s just as lovely as the first time she walked through the woods with Adrien. She tries to keep her mind off of the last time she was in here with him. She doesn’t want to think about his theories. They only give false hope.

Instead, Marinette takes in the scenery. The fresh air, the chirping birds. She picks up a fallen leaf and presses it in her pocket notebook before she leaves the woods.

Marinette makes a quick lap around the fields. The residents who are on rotation are already starting their day. They’re pulling out tools from the shed and some are in the fields, pulling at the weeds. They wave to her as they see her walk pass. Marinette has volunteered to help all of them at one point or another. They have all heard about her training as a carer and miss her. She knows she will miss them too.

It’s still too early for anyone else to be awake. It’s unfortunate because she wishes she could say goodbye to Theo and Mireille. Although, Marinette doesn’t know what she would say and they probably wouldn’t want to see her. Maybe it was a good thing that she was leaving so early.

Marinette walks back to the truck and the deliveryman stomps out his cigarette. She makes sure she has everything one last time and then they both climb into the truck.

The sun is just starting to rise as they leave the cottages.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and screaming are welcome c:


	3. The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cottages from Adrien's point of view. Adrien and Chloé's relationship problems, and more of Adrien's past is revealed. Still sticking close to the movie plot with some additions.
> 
> Warnings: same ones as last chapter, so there's sex (and a shitty blowjob) and the porn magazine comes up again. Neither are described in detail. Oh, and there's a drug induced hallucination and panic attack about past childhood abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [inkkerfuffle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkkerfuffle/pseuds/Inkkerfuffle) aka [runningoutofink](http://runningoutofink.tumblr.com/) for all the help again :D 
> 
> Suggested Listening: [Woods by Bon Iver ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_cePGP6lbU)

 

It was the first free day Adrien had at the cottages. As tired as he was from working in the fields, he couldn’t sleep in. He had grown too used to the early mornings, so he untangled himself from Chloé and went downstairs to make himself a cup of tea. He had just finished when he heard someone in the lobby.

Adrien picked up his mug and went to see who it was. Marinette was sitting at the foot of the stairs, pulling on boots and wrapping a scarf around herself.

“Hey,” he says. He smiles politely, unsure of where they stand with each other. They’ve only made small talk since they started talking again and Adrien, as much as he wants to talk to her, doesn’t want to push Marinette away again. He’ll take what he can get.

Marinette looks up. “Hi.” Her smile is polite as well – it doesn’t reach her eyes.

There’s a pause in their conversation, and Adrien scratches the back of his neck. “Where are you going?”

There’s a moment of hesitation, and she looks toeard the door before answering, “I thought I’d take a walk.”

Adrien remembers when they used to go on walks together, back when there was there was never anywhere to go except to the fountain. His heart sinks. He wishes he could go back to that time, but he doesn’t blame her for stopping their walks. He knows his mistakes and knows he has to deal with the consequences.

Adrien looks down at his tea and he’s suddenly aware that this is the first time he and Marinette have been alone in a long time. At Francoise Dupont, she was always with Alya. Here, Chloé was always around him. Adrien frowns. “Does that mean… you want to be alone?”

He waits for an answer but doesn’t hear one, so he looks up. When he does, he sees Marinette smiling at him. This time, the smile reaches her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Moving into the cottages brought other changes as well, this time related to his budding relationship with Chloé. 

“Chl- _ oh. _ ”

It’s Marinette’s smiling face that he imagines when Chloé kneels in front of him. He tilts his head back so he doesn’t have to look at her. He’s too ashamed, but not enough to turn Chloé down again. Instead, he lets out a low moan and hates himself for it. But  _ god,  _ does he feel good.

Chloé keeps offering and he keeps accepting. He doesn’t know how to stop accepting. He can tell her no, but the moment she touches him, he forgets the word exists. It’s wrong, he knows this, so Adrien just lets her do what she wants because this is all he has left ever since Marinette rejected him all those years ago. Some strange forms of physical intimacy that will have to hold him over. Chloé’s the only one who accepts him now. And he’s just so lonely.

But Chloé is never enough to make the loneliness go away – Marinette is. She made him forget the emptiness that morning when it was just the two of them alone in the woods. The way she smiled in response to him, the pink on her cheeks, the image of himself reflected in her eyes – Him and Marinette. His hand brushing hers. The briefest of touches was enough – but those touches don’t last. They never do, and Adrien’s come to fear that part of himself that’s so greedy. The part of him that craves Marinette.

He closes his eyes, pretending that if he opened his eyes, he’d see dark hair instead of blonde, and that, coupled with all Chloé is doing is enough to make him moan , and this time, he hears Chloé’s voice too. She gasps Adrien’s name and he’s fighting it so hard, forcing himself back into the fantasy that it’s Marinette’s voice he hears, that Marinette is the one who wants him like that- 

Brass instruments fill his ears, and he opens his eyes, wide. He’s holding his breath and his whole body’s gone numb. He doesn’t feel anything that Chloé’s doing to him, because he  _ knows  _ this song. He can’t never forget it.

_ ‘Darling, hold me, hold me, hold me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

Adrien sits up and pushes Chloé off him. She’s startled but then regains her composure, straightening her clothing as she sits up, glaring daggers at him.

_ ‘Darling, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

“What’s wrong?” she asks him. Her face is more annoyed than anything. Adrien still can’t remember how to speak. He just sits and listens.

‘ _ Lock my heart. Throw away the key. Fill my love. Ecstasy _ .’

Chloé’s standing in front of him, arms crossed and hip cocked to the side. She’s mad, and unfortunately he can’t find it in him to care. Right now, all he cares about is the words and music coming through the wall.

_ ‘Bind my heart with your warm embrace and tell me no one will never take my place.’ _

Adrien doesn’t realize his jaw had dropped, but he closes his mouth now, swallows hard and looks up at Chloé. “W-we can’t.  _ I _ can’t.” Adrien shakes his head and tries to remember how to breathe.

Chloé narrows her eyes at him. “What?” she’s livid, and Adrien knows that he’ll have to deal with her sour behavior for at least a couple of days but right now he doesn’t have the strength to care. “Why?” She asks, shoulders rigid as she awaits for an explanation.

_ ‘Darling, tell me, tell me, tell me you’ll never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never…’ _

The music starts to fade, and he’s almost certain that he hears a sob coming from the next room, and his chest tightens at the idea that she might have  _ heard them.  _ There’s a small part of him that dares to hope that perhaps she cared - but that wasn’t possible, Marinette hasn’t cared about him for a long time. He looks Chloé dead in the eyes and shakes his head. Before she can reply, the music starts playing again.

Chloé glares at him and pushes him off the bed and he tumbles onto the floor ungracefully. She crawls under the sheets and turns her back to him, her shoulders tense and her posture radiating anger. She doesn’t even wait for him to get his bearings before she turns out the light. But as cold as Chloé is right now, Adrien doesn’t blame her. He knows his mistakes. Nothing about this is fair, not to him, and most definitely not to either of them. He grabs a separate blanket and his pillow, and sleeps on the floor that night.

 

* * *

 

Adrien had taken to waking early and waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Marinette, hoping that she would wake up early and they could go on a walk together. But she never came, and when the rest of the house started to wake, Adrien would go out on the walks by himself, not ready to deal with them just yet. He retraced the path they took over and over again, trying to remember the smile on her face every time he looked back at her, and the feel of her hand when they walked side by side. Sometimes, Adrien would get lost in his thoughts, and he’d end up spending hours repeating the path he and Marinette walked over and over. He’d only realize what he was doing when he was about to enter the woods again, and then he’d shake his head, laugh self-deprecatingly and then start another lap.

Today wasn’t so bad, he had only gone through the route twice before he realized what he was doing, and when he did, he headed back to the cottage for breakfast. When he got back, he could hear Mireille and Theo in the kitchen. They must have come over again. Sure enough, when Adrien entered the kitchen, he saw Chloé and Mireille cooking breakfast and Theo sitting at the table. Adrien joined Theo at the table and greeted them all. He cast a worrying glance at Chloé, half expecting her to lash out at him for last night – it had been the third time that he couldn’t do  _ it. _

But when Chloé turned to face him, it was like nothing happened last night.

Chloé brings him a plate of eggs and toast, and he half expects that she has spit in his food, but she’s smiling and hugging him. Mireille brings over two plates, one for herself and one for Theo and then takes a seat. Neither Theo nor Mireille look like they know Adrien slept on the floor again last night, and they’re all chatting happily.

_ What the hell was going on? _

He shoots a look at Chloé but she doesn’t acknowledge it at all. Instead, she pulls his arm around her and steals food off his plate throughout the meal. Adrien can’t make any sense out of Chloé’s behavior and she doesn’t give him any sign that she’ll explain to him what’s going on. Instead, he drops it and makes a mental note to ask Chloé about it after Mireille and Theo leave.

“So anyway, when we came out of the broom closet, Aurore was there and she was all ‘Oh my god, you two totally did it, didn’t you?’ and poor Theo nearly died of embarrassment,” Mireille laughed.

“Oh my god,” Chloé laughed. “What did you say?”

“I told her that’s  _ so not true! _ ” The two girls giggled in unison. Adrien raised an eyebrow at Chloé, and again, she ignored his silent questioning. The whole situation made him feel uneasy, and he had no idea how to react right now.

“Mireille, please, I’m going to die if you tell that story one more time,” Theo sighed. His face was red and Adrien shot him a sympathetic look. It occurred to Adrien that this was the third time he and Chloé had heard this story, and still, she pretended like she was hearing it for the first time. He couldn’t understand why.

“Adrien and I were the same. We were so shy around each other until  _ finally _ , someone locked us in a closet together,” Chloé laughed. Adrien narrowed his eyes at the comment. That… that wasn’t what happened at all. He opened his mouth to say as much but then Chloé picked up a piece of toast and shoved it into his mouth. “Is it good? I practiced really hard to make it.”

The smile on Chloé’s face was too wide and Adrien forced a smile on his face too. He took a bite and gave her a tight nod. “Yeah, it’s good.” There was no point in trying to discuss this now, with the other couple right there, Chloé would just derail any attempt Adrien made to question her behaviour.

Neither Mireille nor Theo seemed the wiser. When they all finished breakfast, the couple left, and Chloé started to clean up. Adrien helped her clear the table and when Chloé started to ramble on about Mireille, he put a hand on her shoulder.

“Chloé, stop it.” 

“Stop what?” Chloé turned clear blue eyes at him, looking every bit the devoted girlfriend she’d been when Theo and Mireille were around.

He just couldn’t deal with it. “Copying them. You’re not Mireille. Just be yourself.”

Adrien had never seen Chloé’s expression change so fast. She shoved him aside and ran upstairs. Startled, Adrien gaped at her, looking at the doorway she had just gone through.

_ What the hell was going on? _

 

* * *

 

Whenever they were alone, Adrien tried to approach Chloé about the incident, but despite his best attempts, she always ignored him. But her mood switched whenever Theo or Mireille, or any of the other cottage residents were around; then, she would have an arm around him and stick close to him. She’d kiss his cheek and giggle at things he said. It was strange and so unlike the Chloé that he knew and he couldn’t understand just what was the point.

Finally, he got tired of it and went looking for places where he could be alone. He was glad that, at least when Mireille or Theo were around, Chloé could be distracted by them. The couple gave her enough attention that she’d ease up on him for a little bit. Sometimes she would drag him along with her, but if Adrien was stubborn enough, she would leave him alone.

So he prefers to spend his afternoons writing to Nino and looking at the ladybug painting. He’s gotten a few replies from his best friend, but Nino’s letter are always short. He was hurt at first, but he understand now. Adrien knows that his friend had ended up at a halfway house that was much harder on its residents. They had a similar setup to the cottages, but less rotations, so Nino worked on his farm more often than Adrien did on his. So, when Nino did have free time, he was either exhausted, or he would go out on day trips. Adrien couldn’t begrudge Nino the chance to go out and travel. They all knew they had to make the most out of the time they had. Adrien liked to collect the small souvenirs Nino had sent him from his trips.

His favorite gift was the bubble blower. Nino had written in his letter about the bubble blower he had bought at a sale back at Francoise Dupont and how sad he had been when it broke. When one of his friends drove him into town for a daytrip, he saw bubble blowers in a store and bought one for himself and one for Adrien. The thought of Nino sending him something was endearing, and Adrien would sit on the porch blowing bubbles, smiling as he remembered simpler times.

But one day, his alone time is interrupted by Chloé bursting into their room, out of breath and eyes watering. She stands by the doorframe, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears. “Adrien,” she sobs. 

He drops the ladybug painting on their bed and goes to her by the door, gingerly putting his arms around her, and pulling her close to him. “What’s wrong? Chloé, what happened?”

Mireille and Theo come up the stairs a second later. Adrien can’t read the expressions on their faces, and he tightens his arms around Chloé, pulling her to his chest.

“What’s going on?” Adrien asks again, green eyes narrowed as he waits for an answer. Chloé pushes at him and he loosens his grip, looking down at Chloé and waiting for her to reply. But when Chloé tries to say something, she sobs again. Her words are incoherent and he looks up at Mireille and Theo for clarification. They smile nervously.

“I took Mireille into Calais to practice driving, we just got back.”

“So?” His voice is low and there’s a hint of protectiveness as he waits for the couple to finish explaining.

Mireille looks at Theo and he takes a step toward her. The couple holds hands and then they turn back to Adrien.

“We think we saw Chloé’s possible.”

Adrien’s eyes go wide and he looks back down at Chloé. “Is this true?”

She nods, a small uncertain smile on her face. Her next words are quiet and hard to make out, but Adrien gets what she’s saying all the same. “Wi-will you-u come wi-with me?”

There was no hesitation in his voice when he answered, “God, of course I will, Chloé.” He hugs her harder and this time she hugs him back. Adrien can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He had been so worried, and this was such a relief. When the pulls away, Mireille breaks the silence.

“Theo and I can bring you guys there right now.”

Adrien squeezes Chloé’s hand and she shakes her head. She looks toward Marinette’s room. “No-not today. Not rig-right now.” Mireille and Theo seem to get the point, so Chloé promises to arrange another time that they can all go to Calais together and they leave. When Chloé and Adrien are alone, they go into their room. Adrien clears his ladybug painting off the bed and he settles on the bed, wrapping his arm around her when she curls up next to him. 

Despite her earlier outburst, she seems better. She’s smiling and rambling about the craziness of the whole situation; just how crazy it could be that they might have found her  _ possible. _

“I me-mean, have you ever known of… of one of us? One of us who has found their original?” 

He hasn’t. Not really, but he shakes his head. Adrien knows he’s different, that point had been driven home to him the minute he set foot in Francoise Dupont. None of the students could remember much of an  _ outside  _ world - none of them had been outside until they left for the halfway homes -  but he does. He remembers stark white walls, sterile looking hallways. A four room apartment, and the man who forced him through tests. He remembers the woman who had been kind to him and the photo she had brought.

‘ _ This is who you are going to save. _ ’ She’d say. In the picture, there was a boy with blond hair – a boy who looked nearly identical to him, smiling. A beautiful woman holding the boy, and the man who performed experiments also smiling.

The other woman was serious, but there was a hint of gentleness hiding behind her blue eyes.  _ ‘Not just him. You are going to save this whole family.’ _

_ A family?  _ He knew what that meant, but he couldn’t really understand it. The concept simply felt hollow to him. 

Adrien doesn’t want to remember that boy. He doesn’t want to think about how he’s going back into that life of donations.

“Adrien?” Chloé places her fingers on his cheek and strokes his face. She’s looking up at him with concern in her eyes.

Adrien tries to clear the thoughts from his head. He doesn’t like remembering those days. He likes even less the idea of speaking about them. “Y-yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He chokes out.

Somehow she doesn’t notice how hoarse his voice is. She just smiles at him and continues on with her rambling. She laughs about how similar she’ll look to her original and she wonders about how her original will react. Adrien tries to listen, but he can’t stop thinking about the boy in the picture.

 

* * *

 

 

For the next few days, Chloé is more annoyingly clingy than usual. She was high off the news of her possible being found and it showed. Still, even with her there, Adrien always felt lonely. He had thought that moving to the cottages with Chloé and Marinette was some kind of blessing, especially when Marinette started talking to him again. But after that night when he and Chloé couldn’t – the night when Chloé pushed him off the bed, Marinette made herself scarce. He had since realized that her disappearance and absence was on purpose.

It didn’t help that Chloé had started to be touchier with him. Of course, when they first got to the cottages and Chloé stuck closer to him it was understandable. He figured that Chloé was clinging to him because they were the only familiar things they had left, even he made an effort to stick to her. But now, it was just excessive. She no longer ignored him when he questioned her about it, but she’d pout and throw a tantrum instead. He always ended up apologizing to her. He didn’t want to push her away too.

But Adrien caught himself looking for chances to escape. Whenever Chloé kissed him without warning or dragged him along to see Theo and Mireille, he would try to come up with excuses to get out of it. Finally, one day while it was raining, Chloé opted to stay inside the cottages. She invited Mireille and Theo over to plan out a day to go into Calais and Adrien slipped out of the kitchen. It was then that he saw Marinette walking through the rain toward the far end of the cottages where the fields and farm buildings were.

Without a second thought, Adrien ran after her. He didn’t even pause to grab his coat. He wasn’t  _ thinking,  _ but he didn’t care. Marinette walked with an air of determination, and Adrien ended up following her to a barn at the far end of the fields. She pulled open the huge wooden doors and went inside. Adrien got closer and noticed that she didn’t close the doors after her.

He approaches the barn, hesitating for a second; not knowing if the open doors were invitation enough to join her, so he stops and stands by the doorway, watching her. Marinette’s already sitting on a stool by the wooden table at the side of the barn. She’s pulled out a magazine from underneath her sweater and she’s flipping through the contents.

“Hi Adrien.” He jumps, unaware that she had been aware of him all along. Marinette hasn’t looked up from the magazine and the fact that she’s caught him startles him.

“Mari.” He replies. He stays standing in the rain, unsure if she’s about to ask him to leave or not. He hasn’t really spoken to her since their walk in the woods and since then, the closest interaction they’ve had is Marinette blasting music at him and Chloé. The memory makes him feel awkward and there’s a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He almost turns to leave when Marinette startles him out of his thoughts again.

“Don’t just stand in the rain. Come inside,” she commands, but there’s a softness in her voice, as if she’s unsure whether or not he wants to join her.

He does as he’s told. When he gets to the table, he leans close to peer over her shoulder. He narrows his eyes at the magazine. He raises his eyebrows and looks from her to the porn magazine and back. “What are you doing?”

She still doesn’t look up. “What do you mean what am I doing. Isn’t’ it obvious?”

“But why are you looking at a porn magazine? For pleasure?” Adrien can’t help it. His lips quirk up into a smile and he’s holding back a chuckle. The whole scene is downright ridiculous.

“Sure, you could say that.” Marinette’s flippant reply doesn’t interrupt the rhythm in which she turns the pages, still not looking up at him. Adrien’s not sure if she’s just that concentrated in what she’s doing or if she’s just trying to ignore him. He’s not sure how he feels about either possibility. 

“You’re going too fast then. It does nothing if you look that fast.”

That’s when she finally stops. She pauses and looks up at him, an eyebrow raised and she can’t help but laugh. “How do you know what works for girls?”

There’s something in her question that stings him. This is probably the closest Marinette will get to bringing up that night she blasted music at Chloé and him, but there’s also a playfulness there. Marinette smirks at him and he knows that she didn’t mean to snap at him so he takes it as a joke instead.

He grins and shakes his head at her. “Marinette, you’re not looking for pleasure.”

Marinette looks back down at the porn magazine, flipping through it again. She doesn’t say a word to him but he can see the pink blossoming on her cheeks. He’s not sure if she’s embarrassed, but he can’t help but try and memorize her expression. She looks so determined to ignore him and her face is so red – even now he thinks she’s adorable.

Marinette finishes flipping through the magazine and shoves it at his chest. “Here.” He barely catches it as she stomps out of the barn, not looking back at him. “May it’ll do something for you.”

Was she mad at him? She walks out into the rain and disappears before he can see where she’s gone. He holds the magazine in his hand and looks down at it. There’s a woman on the cover, barely dressed but looking coyly over her shoulder. Adrien laughs and runs a hand through his hair.

He shoves the magazine under his shirt and runs back to the cottages, but before he can throw the thing out, Chloé catches him and drags him back inside.

“Where have you been? You’re all wet, I missed you.” She purrs, her hands trailing over his arms.  Adrien doesn’t miss the innuendo, but then Chloé disappears into the bathroom and comes back out with a towel. She doesn’t even wait for Adrien to respond before she starts to help him dry off.

“Is Marinette not back?” He asks, wondering where she could have gone. There weren’t many places she could go to hide from the rain. 

Chloé makes a face but shakes her head, and says nothing about Marinette. Something else called her attention. “What’s this?”

_ Shit. _

“What?” Chloé pulls the magazine out from under his shirt and the towel drops from her hands. Her face is blank when she looks up at him.

Adrien looks away and laughs nervously, unsure of how to react. “Where did Mireille and Theo go? Did they leave?” He’s looking everywhere but Chloé’s eyes.

“They went to the den.” Her voice is tight, laced with an emotion he’s not sure how to decipher.

“Oh, we should go find them.” Adrien offers, almost desperate to clear the tension and avoid this entire conversation.

However, Chloé is not backing down. “Adrien.” She pauses, her eyes narrowed as she grips the magazine so tightly her knuckles turn white. “What. Is. this.” She waves the porn magazine in his face and Adrien’s face goes red.

“It’s not mine, I swear. I just found I–”

“Don’t lie to me Adrien!” she shouts. She throws the magazine at him and he catches it.

His voice is barely a whisper when he answers. “It’s Marinette’s. I was going to throw it out –” He doesn’t get to finish his explanation because the next thing knows, Chloé’s slapped him and stormed upstairs to their room. His cheek stung, but he was more surprised than anything. He raises a hands to cup his cheek and winces a little. He’d need ice for that later.

But first, Adrien goes back out into the rain. This time, he puts on a pair of rainboots and grabs a coat, pulling on the hood before he goes to the bins. He throws the magazine out and then starts on his walk into the woods. He needed to get away from the cottages.

 

* * *

 

 

There is still some degree of intimacy. If one could even call it that. Because despite everything, Chloé tries. It’s like there’s a part of her that knows just what she’s able to give to Adrien and she takes the chances when she has them. However, they rarely go well.  Today was a difficult day. They know it, after the disastrous trip to Calais, and Chloé’s meltdown after realizing that the woman in Calais was not her possible. 

He knew she needed this - needed him. Chloé needed to feel like there was at least something that was  _ hers  _ and a small part of him knows this.

But Adrien’s traitorous heart is barely letting him fantasize about a different girl, and once the music starts blaring, it’s all over and Adrien all but goes limp in Chloé’s hands.

_ ‘Darling, hold me, hold me, hold me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

She gets it by now, and bites his lip, hard, before she pulls back and shoves Adrien away from her. Adrien doesn’t even get a chance to react, too stunned to even yelp in pain at the sudden move. She glaring at him and he brings a hand up to his lip. There’s blood.

_ ‘Darling, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

Neither of them say anything. He knows she hates him for this. After the day she had just had – not being able to do anything for Mireille or Theo, being disappointed by her possible, and facing the truth of her existence; that she had been created from trash – and he still can't bring himself to do  _ it _ . Just another disappoint to add to the list.

‘ _ Lock my heart. Throw away the key. Fill my love. Ecstasy _ .’

Chloé slides off the bed and wraps herself in a robe. Adrien doesn’t stop her. As much as he wants to apologize and pull her back, he knows that she won’t accept his apology and he knows that he can’t even promise her to try again. This is the fifth time it’s happened; it was hopeless.

_ ‘Bind my heart with your warm embrace and tell me no one will never take my place.’ _

She glares at him one more time and then leaves the room, robe flowing behind her as she disappears. Adrien lets out a self-deprecating chuckle and runs a hand through his hair. God, Chloé didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve the shit he put her through, and despite knowing this, he still couldn’t break it off with her. He was selfish like that. It would do them both good if he just ended everything, and just gave them both a chance to search for something real. But the reality was that he was so scared of being alone that he’d bring them both down to avoid the possibility..

_ ‘Darling, tell me, tell me, tell me you’ll never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never…’ _

The song was a quiet recrimination. A never ending reminder of all the mistakes Adrien had made that led them all to this point. The heartbreaking melody was enough to send Adrien into a downward spiral of recrimination. He leaned back against the headboard and sighed. “Stupid,” he said to himself, closing his eyes as he sighed. “So stupid.”

 

* * *

 

 

Adrien couldn’t make any sense out of Chloé. One moment, she won’t talk to him at all and the next she won’t leave him alone. Her behavior surprised him. He thought that she would shut him out of her life after they got back from Calais and after he had  _ failed _ again. That, he would have at least understood, it was logical. She was disappointed and distraught and he made it all worse. Why shouldn’t she be ignoring him? Even with the way she’s treated him lately, slapping him, screaming – Chloé was all he had, so he stayed by her side and did all that he could to make it up to her. He has no idea just how he could even begin to make it up to her, but he tries. 

But Chloé makes it difficult for him to make amends. She retreats from him and as much as he tries to be there for her, she locks him out of their room. Still, Adrien waits for her downstairs because there are rare moments when she does want him and he has a chance to make it up to her. Maybe. She comes down the stairs and doesn’t say anything. She just looks at him with red eyes and wet cheeks and he knows that she needs him. In those moments, he goes back upstairs with her and holds her until she’s finished crying or until she pushes him out of the room again.

Those moments are rare and far between, but he stands by because he knows that she’ll be devastated if he’s not there when she needs him. And he knows that he’ll blame himself forever if he isn’t.  Adrien knows that she’ll count it as one more time that he’s let her down. So he takes fewer walks into the woods because they take up too much time, and he only works on things that let him stay near Chloé, like writing his letters to Nino…

And more recently, drawing.

Ever since they got back from Calais, Adrien hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the rumor that Theo and Mireille had told them about. He wonders if maybe, just  _ maybe _ there was a chance to push back the donations… and he wonders if the gallery has anything to do with it.

It was a ridiculous thought, but Adrien couldn’t get it out of his head.

What if that was what the gallery was for all along? Of all the mysteries back at Francoise Dupont, that had been the unsolvable one. No one at the school figured out what it had been for, but everyone worked hard to get into the gallery anyway. Was there a way to get in contact with Monsieur Plagg? What about Headmaster Tikki? Was it possible that they were the ones who gave out the deferrals?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and the more he thought about it, the more he drew. He had traded a watch that Nino had sent him for a sketchbook with one of the other residents when he went to the den, and started to draw nonstop. He filled out a sketchbook with ladybugs and then got another two sketchbook from Theo – the other boy had stopped all his art since they had come back from Calais and he threw out his supplies. Adrien had been lucky enough to scavenge the two sketchbooks and a few coloured pencils and pens.

In the midst of his drawing, it dawned on him why he had been so taken with the idea. He couldn’t help but smile –

“Adrien?”

He had been so lost in his thoughts about the gallery and the deferrals and drawing he didn’t even notice that Chloé had come down the stairs.

“What are you doing?” she asked him, her voice was small and broken. It was hoarse, clearly from crying again.

Adrien snapped out of his reverie and closed his sketchbook. He dropped his pencil and went to Chloé, hugging her to his chest. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I want to know what you were doing.” Her voice sounds small, but it’s firm. 

“I was just drawing,” Adrien replied. He moved to lead her back upstairs but Chloé wouldn’t follow him.

“Can I see?” 

Adrien looked down at her, but he couldn’t read her expression. He doesn’t want to show her, not really, but he can’t bring himself to refuse her either. “S-sure.”

He let go of her and went back to the kitchen table. He picked up the sketchbook and brought it to Chloé. She flipped through the pages looking at ladybug after ladybug, and then, there on the page he had been working on last: the profile of a girl – a soft curve of the chin and the slope of her nose. A blush shaded onto the cheeks and her face covered in freckles. Dark hair tied back, but a few stray strands blowing in the wind. The picture was not perfect. Adrien was not an artist and he was out of practice, but even still, it was obvious.

When he saw what Chloé had flipped to, he froze. Her head snapped up and tears spilled from her eyes. He wanted to say that he’d never before seen such a look of pure fury – but no, of course he had, back in that four room apartment – Chloé tore the sketchbook apart and screamed.

“Chloé stop it!” Adrien tried to pry the sketchbook from her hands, but she just ripped more and more of it up. He finally got a hold of both her wrists and pinned her to the wall. “Chloé please. Calm down!”

“It’s her, it’s always her!” She screamed, struggling against him as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“What are you talking about?”

Chloé screamed at him again, crying and shouting incoherent words. “You can’t even fuck me because it’s always her. Always Marinette. Always has been and always will be!”

“Shit, Chloé, just stop. Calm down and we can talk about this,” he tries to reason. But even though he’s got her pinned, she thrashing and flailing and trying her best to get out of his grasp. Finally, she kicks him off and gets an arm free. She manages to get away from him and grabs a handful of the torn sketches. She throws the scattered pieces of paper at his face, crying and hysterical.

“Fuck off, Adrien. Just leave me alone!” She collapsed in a heap and when Adrien tried to hug her, she pushed him away. “It’s always her. Always been her. Always, always,  _ always _ .” She’s hugging herself and sobbing, refusing any sort of comfort from him.

Adrien’s still reeling from the blow she had dealt him but he knows he needs to do  _ something _ . He moves closer and lowers his voice, hoping that he could reason with her now that she seemed to have screamed the energy from her body. “Chloé, I don’t understand. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Chloé shook her head, holding back a sob. She looked so defeated, slumped on the floor against the wall. Voice rough from crying and the skin on her face raw and tender from wiping away tears. She looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “You lo-love her.”

Scattered bits of torn paper littered the floor. Ladybugs everywhere reminding Adrien of when Marinette first reached out to him. That moment so long ago when it all started. When his heart started to ache for her and when he knew he had fallen for her, hard. He still remembers the ladybug flying off her shoulder, her blue eyes and the way she bit her lip, trying her best not to cry.

“Just leave me alone already. Go to her.” Chloé picked up a scrap of paper from the ground. Marinette’s profile, torn up and crumpled, but still distinguishable. Her hands are shaking and a sob wracks through her body. She hands the paper to Adrien and then brings her hands up to her face, hiding herself from him as she cries. 

Her words hit him. He hates himself for it, but he feels lighter. He feels... relieved. 

Adrien doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know how to thank her for understand, so he just hugs her, and she lets him.

 

* * *

 

After everything that’s happened, Adrien still woke up early every morning and waited for Marinette.

It was useless because most days she was already gone by the time he was up. Gone to town for her carer training. She was almost never at the cottages anymore and when she was, she locked herself away in her room. The few times he’s glimpsed inside her room, he’s seen scattered papers everywhere. Books piled high and pages and pages of notes. He doesn’t know how to approach her after everything, and he doesn’t say anything when Chloé calls him a fucking coward. He had hurt Chloé so much, and now that she had done what he couldn’t – broken it off between the two of them – he still couldn’t work up the courage to talk to Marinette.

So he waits and waits and then he hears the news from Aurore. She had stayed up late, trying to calm Mireille down after another fight with Theo and overheard the deliverymen talking to Marinette one night as she got back from town. She was to move into town soon so that she could fully immerse herself in her training and so that they wouldn’t have to drive her all the time. Sometimes, late at night when he can’t sleep, Adrien can hear Marinette getting in, and the sound of her moving about in her room. He imagines that she’s packing her belongings away in anticipation for the move and he wonders if she’ll take the cassette tape with her.

Still, he can’t approach her. He keeps waiting for her every morning, coat and boots on. He sits at the foot of the stairs until he hears the rest of the house waking up and then, if she’s not there by then, he takes the walk himself.

He’s lucky this morning.

He hears Marinette’s quiet footsteps coming down the hall and then he hears her pause at the top of the stairs. He doesn’t turn around but he knows she’s seen him and he knows she’s probably hesitating now. He squeezes his eyes shut and prays for another stroke of luck.

She walks down the stairs and Adrien sighs, relived. Neither of them say anything as they walk out into the cold morning and retrace the path they had taken on their first day off at the cottages. It physically pains Adrien that he’s so close to her – she’s finally here and she’s letting him join her – but he still can’t touch her. Oh, what he wouldn’t do just to be able to brush his hand against hers again.

They entered the woods and the trees started to block out the sun. There were patches of sunlight along the path and as much as Adrien wanted to run to them and revel in the feel of the sun on his skin, he held himself back to savor the feeling of Marinette walking next to him. He chances a glance at her and smiles when he sees that she’s wearing the ladybug earrings he bought her years ago.

When they were well into the thicket, Adrien finally broke the silence. “Theo and Mireille were really devastated about the deferral, weren’t they?”

Marinette didn’t say anything. She looked ahead at the path they were taking. Adrien had walked it a hundred times, imagining her with him again. He was so familiar with this route that he could walk it with his eyes closed. He loses himself in the sight of her. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to her beauty. After a moment of silence, she said, “I’ve heard them yelling and crying.”

“Theo doesn’t talk to me anymore when he sees me in the den, and Mireille’s stopped coming around to visit Chloé.” Adrien frowns. The last time he had spoken to either of them was when he had pulled the empty sketchbooks and the coloured pencils from Theo’s stash.

“That’s too bad. They were really good to us.” Marinette looks down.

They walk further into the woods. They see a chipmunk scurry by and other wildlife going about their mornings. Birds and rabbits, all without a care in the world. Adrien takes a deep breath, preparing himself. He had thought about talking to Marinette about this for so long and now that the moment had finally come, he was blanking on how to broach the subject. In the end, he just blurted it out. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it. The deferrals.”

“So?” The tone of her voice sounded skeptical, like whatever he said next would be disappointing.

It throws him off, but Adrien takes another breath. He has to at least try. He has to at least tell her. “Let’s just pretend for a minute that they were real. That it was possible to get one. How would they know people weren’t just lying about it – pretending they were in love to push back their donations?”

Marinette stopped walking. She turned and sat down on the slope on running along the side of the path and looked up at Adrien, her face questioning. “I don’t know. How?”

“What about the gallery?”

“What about it?” She didn’t seem to get what he was saying.

“Painting and art. Don’t they say that art can show you a person’s soul?”

“I suppose.” She still sounded skeptical.

Adrien knelt down, eyes level with Marinette as he smiled nervously. “Well, couldn’t they use that to tell if we were – we –” Adrien paused. He laughed at the thought of that and blushed, but he barreled on. He needed to get her to understand… to see where he was going with this. “They could see if it was a lie or if we’re really in love? They would be able to look at our art and see if we were telling the truth or lying.”

Marinette crossed her arms, the skeptical look still on her face. “Adrien, that’s a ridiculous idea.” She told him.

“What? I don’t think so. I think it could be true.”

There was a pause. Marinette skipped a beat in their conversation before she asked him, “Are you thinking of applying then? With Chloé?”

Adrien shook his head, he didn’t know why but he felt like crying even though he was smiling at her. “No.” He said, letting the word sink in. He shook his head at her again. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Why?” Her voice broke, and Adrien dared to let himself believe that she sounded hopeful.

“Because it wouldn’t work. Not with her.” He was looking right at her, kneeling front of her and baring his heart to her. The look on her face told him that she understood exactly what he was implying; that she knew exactly what he felt for her.

A flash of emotions showed on her face and the next thing either of them knew, she was crying. “It’s all just rumors and theories,” she whispered. Her voice sounded so small and frail and she looked so delicate and breakable in that moment that he just wanted to hold her. His chest ached and his hands reached out to her but he stopped himself.

“Yeah, I know.” Adrien looked to the side, taking his eyes off her for a second. She looked so overwhelmed by him and his words. He knew he was grasping for straws here, but he needed to give her a moment lest he scare her away. “You have so much in the gallery. You were so talented, they took your work every year.”

She nods at him, still crying. She wipes away a tear. Adrien watches her and tries to figure out what Marinette must be thinking at that moment. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that she’s leaving soon – that the only reason she’s on this walk now is probably because her instructors have been kind and given her a day off.

“But they never took my paintings – once. Monsieur Plagg took it once. They’d have nothing to go on for me.” He wants to tell her that it’s okay though. He wants to tell her that he’s been drawing and making up for all the times he didn’t get into the gallery. He waits and searches her face for some sign from Marinette to continue.

But Marinette doesn’t saying anything. She doesn’t even let him finish. Before he can say another word, she stands and walks back onto the path. She turns her back to him but he can see that she’s shaking. “Oh Adrien,” she says, her voice was barely audible and he half thinks that he’s imagined it.

Before he can reach out to her, before he can even stand, she’s started to walk away from him. Her footsteps get faster and faster and the sound of her running away from him fades into the sound of chirping birds.

Adrien stays in the woods for a long time after that, replaying the conversation in his head. There was so much he had wanted to say and he hadn’t even gotten through half of it. He had hoped to somehow convince Marinette of his idea – hoped to somehow convince her that there’s a chance for them, but he blew it. He didn’t even get to tell her about the drawings.

 

* * *

 

 

One day she was there, and then the next, she was gone.

Mireille and Theo left for the hospitals soon after Marinette left for carer training. And then a month later, the notices came on little blue slips. They were about the size of a postcard. Chloé got hers first, and Adrien knew it was only a matter of time until he got his.

After the notices arrived, Chloé shut herself away for good. Adrien had to move into Marinette’s old room if he wanted to have a bed to sleep on. He found the scarf and the dress on Marinette’s old bed with a note and when he brought it to Chloé, the two of them cried together.

Adrien spent so many sleepless nights, listening to Chloé’s muffled crying. He realizes that in all likelihood, Marinette had heard everything that went on in the next room and his stomach turns at the thought of it. He spends so much time wondering what Marinette was doing now. Was she still in town or had she moved to another town? Would she have time if he visited her? Was he even allowed to visit? Is she sleeping now or is she still awake, studying, researching, and training? He would take out one of his sketchbooks and fill the pages with ladybugs and images of Marinette: the smile on her face when they walked through the woods that first time, her profile as she looked out at the ocean at the sunset, and her pained smile when he told her about his theories.

He could never get the sketches right. Marinette was too beautiful and complex to capture in mere pencil on paper, but Adrien tried. And on nights when he was too tired to draw, he would lie in bed, thinking about how this used to be Marinette’s room, and hum the song until he fell asleep.

During the day, Adrien would walk in the woods, and sometimes, when Aurore had time, she would teach him how to drive. She had asked him if it was because he wanted to raise his chances at becoming a carer, and he just nodded. He didn’t tell her that he didn’t have any intentions of becoming a carer, and that the driving was just a distraction from everything else. Silently, he hoped that Marinette was still in Calais, and that they would run into each other. But they never did.

He stopped writing to Nino too, after Nino’s last letter. His best friend had already received his notice and because of the crowded housing, he was sent to the hospitals in Paris ahead of time. Unfortunately, it meant that Nino didn’t know if he could continue to write to Adrien. In his last package, he sent Adrien his headphones.

It killed Adrien to know that everyone he cared about was leaving, and that most of them were starting their donations. He knew exactly what it was like to lose a part of himself and to wake up aching and empty. The man who performed experiments still haunted his dreams, and even more so now that Adrien knew his notice was coming. He wondered about the blond boy and if he was still smiling. Adrien had been taken away, but had he been able to save that family?

Adrien shook his head. His mind was filled with too many thoughts and he needed to focus. Aurore put a hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed his grip on the steering wheel.

“You got it, the car is parked perfectly,” she smiled. Despite his divided attention, Adrien had managed to parallel park. “And just in time.”

Adrien gave her a weary smile, but then frowned. “Just in time?”

Aurore sniffled. “I’m leaving tomorrow for the hospitals.” Adrien’s eyes went wide.

“What?”

“Today’s my last day at the cottages.” She tried her best to smile but when she started to cry, she turned away from Adrien. Her voice broke, “It’s alright. I’m hoping to see Mireille again. Maybe I’ll end up at the same hospital as her.”

Adrien turned off the engine, the sound of rain filled the silence as he turned to Aurore. He pulled her into a hug. “Aurore, not that I’m not grateful, but what the hell are you doing here with me? We should be back at the cottages. You should have a chance to say goodbye to everyone. Come on, it’s not too late to get back now.”

“No, Adrien. I’m glad that we could finish your driving lessons before I left,” She shakes her head and though he can’t see her face, her sobbing tells him she’s really crying now. Her voice is muffled when she says, “besides, there’s no one left to say goodbye too. All my friends have already gone to the hospitals.” Aurore pulls away from Adrien and sniffles again. Her nose is red and so are her eyes, but she doesn’t try to hide her face this time. Her voice is quiet and small, “I was the last one to get the notice in my year too.”

It hits him suddenly why Aurore is here with him.

“It’s kind of a tradition at the cottages, that the last of the current outgoing residents spends the day with the last of the next group. I guess I should have told you before, huh?”

Adrien keeps his arms around her, but shakes his head. “Shit, Aurore.”

“It’s more for me than anything else because being the last kinda sucks. This gives me a chance to spend the day with someone and to not be so lonely. It’s selfish, sorry.” She wipes away her tears again, but she can’t stop crying and Adrien hugs her again. This is all he can do and he feels like complete crap. “Don’t worry, it’s not actually this bad. And next year, you’ll for sure get to spend the day with someone.”

The two of them stay like that for a long time, until it gets darker and Adrien drives them back to the cottages. Aurore doesn’t say anything more about the hospitals and keeps telling Adrien how proud she is of him and how good he’s gotten at driving.

“You’re sure to be selected to become a carer,” she places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. The two of them get out of the car, and Aurore pulls out her umbrella. They circle around the car and Adrien hugs her again. For a moment, they just listen to the patter of rain on the umbrella. When they part, Aurore smiles at him again, handing him her umbrella. “You’ll see her again for sure.”

Adrien makes a face, “what are you talking about?”

Aurore just shakes her head at him, smiling like she knows something, and tugs at his scarf. “She got the cloth from me,” she says and then ducks out from underneath the umbrella, running back to her cottage through the rain.

That was the last time Adrien ever saw Aurore again, and the next day, Adrien’s notice arrived.

 

* * *

 

 

The stark white walls remind Adrien of his childhood. He can’t seem to breathe; it feels like there’s a weight on his chest and it’s pushing all the air out of his lungs.

It’s been a year since Adrien’s notice arrived, and only yesterday, he was still at the cottages. There had been a girl named Manon, and she hadn’t received her notice yet, so yesterday, he had done for Manon what Aurore had done for him. He drove her to Calais and had a meal at the diner that Theo and Mireille brought him to the first time he left the cottages. He brought her to the beach and then back to the cottages. There, he showed her all the places he went to for peace and quiet – the barn that Marinette used to go to, and which he claimed as his own when she left. And then he took Manon on a walk into the woods and explained the tradition to her.

By the time they got back to the cottages, it was late, and despite the fact that Chloé had already left two weeks ago, Adrien still slept in Marinette’s old room. He knew that the new arrivals would take over, but he still thinks of that cottage as his and Chloé’s and Marinette’s.

But that simple life felt like a world away, as he finally entered the hospital and a nurse showed him to his room. He was scheduled for his first donation tomorrow, but he had today to settle in and to meet his carer.

Adrien placed his trunk on his bed. He’d have time to unpack later. Right now, he needed to get outside and away from the hospital. He grabbed his coat and scarf and went out into the courtyard. There was hardly anyone else outside, and he was glad for the space.

He sat down at a bench and closed his eyes. There were no sounds of birds or squirrels. There was just the greenery, and though he knew it was real grass beneath his feet and real trees in the courtyard, he couldn’t help but think about how fake it all looked. He just wanted to go into the woods back at the cottages and listen to the life that surrounded him there.

This place was just empty, and they didn’t even have a fountain out here. Adrien hated the silence. He was almost glad when a nurse came outside to get him. “Your carer is here,” she told him. “She’s waiting for you in your room.”

Adrien nodded and took one last breath of fresh air before he went back inside. The oppressive white walls surrounded him and he tried his best not to think about it as he went back up the elevator and headed to his room. His heart was pounding from the fear of it all, but the aching in his chest was because of something else.

He dared to hope that he would see Marinette waiting for him.

He opened the door, and there he saw blue eyes staring back at him. But they were not the right shade of blue, and he noticed the shock of short blond hair a second later.

“Ro-rose?” he breathed.

But of course he wasn’t so lucky. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

“Adrien!” she smiled at him. She hopped off the window sill and went over to him, pulling him into a hug.

“What are you – are you… are you my carer?” Adrien hugged her back and then they pulled away from each other.

Rose grinned, “Yeah, I was excited when I found out. I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

After Nino and Marinette had befriended Adrien, and then after Chloé and he became a couple, the rest of the class slowly started to warm up to him. Rose had been the first one after Nino, Chloé, and Marinette. She took Adrien’s hand and gave it a squeeze as she led him to his bed and took a seat on the chair next to it.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about before we can catch up.” She pulls out files and papers from her bag and sets them on his bed. Her smile is apologetic and Adrien nods. He sits down on the bed as Rose starts to go through all the files. There’s a folder with all of Adrien’s information on it, recorded from the moment he was taken in by Francoise Dupont, but Rose gives him a container for a urine test anyway. She tells him how he has scheduled x-rays and scans and everything that entails.

But of course Adrien knows all about that already. On his ride to the hospital, a man had briefed him on the whole procedure and told him that his first donation would be his kidney. And even before then, Adrien was familiar with the x-rays, CT scans, and myriad of tests of his childhood. He had peed in a bottle a hundred times before he was brought to Francoise Dupont. It was like returning to old habits.

When Rose has gone through all the documents and Adrien’s signed the paperwork, he goes to the bathroom and hands the urine sample to her. She puts everything away and then looks up at Adrien.

“So how are you?” she asks, taking a relieved breath. “I hate talking about the surgeries, but I wanted to get it out of the way first.”

Adrien shrugs. “It’s okay, it’s just a part of your job.” He clicks open his trunk and finally starts to unpack his belongings. “I’m fine. I went to a place called the cottages near Calais after Francoise Dupont. Where did you go?”

“I went farther than that. I was sent to a farm around Amiens.” She looks down and her voice went quiet. “Juleka, Alix and Kim were with me. We all wanted to sign up to be carers together but they only took me.”

“Did any of them… complete?”

“Kim. First donation. Something went wrong. They look his liver.” There as a silence as her news sunk it. But Rose shook her head and forced a smile on her face. “What about Marinette and Chloé? They were at the cottages with you, weren’t they?”

Adrien smiles at her, glad that he doesn’t have to dwell on their late classmate. Kim had never gotten along with Adrien, but they had grown up together and the world still felt emptier without the other boy there. “Chloé left a month earlier than me. I think she went to Compeigne. Marinette became a carer and left before the notices even arrived. I don’t know where she is anymore.”

Rose nodded. “Carer training is hard, and we move around a lot. She could be anywhere in France…” she trailed off but then looked up at Adrien and forced another smile on her face. Adrien wondered if that was for her sake or his. “But isn’t it a miracle that I ended up being your carer?”

Adrien smiles in response and nods. Despite everything, it  _ is _ a relief to see a familiar face. They started talking about their lives in the two years since they left Francoise Dupont. Rose told him how the school was closed down now. Funding had stopped and the government shut the whole project down.

“Apparently the other schools were nothing like Francoise Dupont. I’ve taken care of some donors who never had classes like we did and they told me how cramped their rooms were.”

He felt the urge to ask Rose if she had heard any rumors from the other donors about Francoise Dupont students getting deferrals. “Did you take care of anyone from Dunkirk?”

Rose shook her head. “Why?” Adrien frowned and sighed. Then she probably didn’t know anything.

“It’s nothing.”

They chatted for a little while longer, and Rose told him of the little news she had heard about their other classmates. She had seen Mylene when she cared for a donor in Lyon, but hadn’t really seen anyone else since then. When they ran out of things to say, Rose told him she’d come back tomorrow and see Adrien off for his first donation.

She asked him if there was anything she could bring him for his aftercare, and he paused for a moment. “A sketchbook would be nice, and some coloured pencils.”

He had long filled out all his sketchbooks, and hadn’t had a chance to get more art supplies during his last days at the cottages. Rose laughed. “Most donors ask for chocolate or food, and didn’t you used to hate art?”

Adrien laughed and waved goodbye as Rose left. He finished unpacking and then spent the rest of the night trying to forget about the white walls. Instead, he hangs up the ladybug painting and tapes a few of his sketches to the walls. He feels less vulnerable that way, and surprisingly, he sleep well that night.

 

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t sleep nearly as well after the surgery.

The surgery itself had gone well. Rose was there before it began, like she had promised, and she told him that she’d leave the sketchbooks and coloured pencils in his room. She was with him right up until they wheeled him into the operation room. Then, she went to an adjacent room and watched him through a glass window. Adrien was scared but managed to calm himself enough to give her a nervous smile just before they put him under.

The next thing Adrien knew, he was aching and in pain. He knew they had given him painkillers but still, there was a pressure on the lower part of his torso and  _ something was missing _ . His breath was shaky and he tried to focus on anything else but the pain – he opened his eyes and saw the white walls of the hospital and something inside him snapped.

_ A woman’s voice from long ago telling him not to cry. The feel of cold metal against his skin. His whimpering and shivering beneath the feel of blue gloves. _

_ He turns and sees a man and a woman, robed and masked. Their eyes are cold. He’s crying and begs them to stop. Please not again. It hurts. _

_ And somehow he feels even heavier than before. More drugs? _

Adrien struggled to move, but his body was so heavy. Even through sedation, he was lucid enough to let out a cry. His breath shortens and he can’t get enough oxygen in his lungs. The walls seemed to close in on him, coming closer and closer and closer until they pressed against the sides of his bed. Four white walls. Four white rooms.

_ But it stills aches. The emptiness creeps in on him as they take what they need and stitch him back up. There are scars to prove it. He shivers as a swab of cotton soaked in antiseptic passes over his skin. It stings an old wound. Everything is cold. _

_ No. He whimpers. But he’s not sure if they hear him. Please. He begs. _

_ They continue their work on him and his crying becomes a muffled string of please please please please it hurts it hurts. _

He’s vaguely aware of the blue eyes staring at him from the bedside. But even though they look to him in concern they are the wrong blue eyes. He hears another woman’s voice telling him not to cry. He looks toward her and sees the shock of short blonde hair as she tells him that everything will be alright. Blonde. Too many blondes. It’s not the colour he’s looking for. She tells him to calm down and that she’ll take away the pain –

More drugs? Adrien screams. He doesn’t want more drugs. He wants what they took away from him.

There’s a shout and a rush of people in white clothing converge on him. He screams again, the white walls are alive and threatening to crush him. Blue latex gloves are touching him. He hates the rub of it against his skin. He kicks and thrashes and does everything in his power to push them off but his body is heavy and there are so many of them.

He scans their faces. All of them are cold. All of them have the wrong eyes or the wrong hair colour and  _ she’s not there _ .  _ She promised she’d be here. _ They push down on him, forcing him back onto the bed. The walls are crushing him now. He can’t breathe. He gasps and then a mask is pressed to his face. His cries are muffled and everything becomes foggy.

_ The worst feeling Adrien knows is the feeling he gets when he wakes up alone, hurting and hallowed and knowing that it’s never going to stop. That they are just going to keep taking no matter how much he begs. He hates this feeling because he knows that no matter how many pain killers he takes it will never be enough to fix him. But if she was there, he knows that it will be okay. If she is there, he can get through the pain. _

The last thing Adrien sees before he blacks out is a girl with blue eyes and black hair. She’s also holding him down, but she’s got the right colours. Somewhere in his mind, he knows it isn’t her, he’s probably confused all the faces surrounding him, but he lets himself believe because it’s the only comfort he’ll get.

_ ‘Adrien.’ _

_ He turns to face the woman. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun and her expression is stern. But Adrien knows better. She is kind to him and bends down to be level with him. She pulls him into a hug and wipes away his tears. _

_ ‘Nathalie, it hurts. It hurts so much.’ _

_ ‘Shhh, I know.’ She pats him gently on the shoulder and then pulls away. She takes out a photograph and hands it to him. ‘You’re doing so well, Adrien.’ _

_ ‘But why does it have to hurt so much?’ _

_ She doesn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she taps the photograph in his hands and he looks at it.  _ ‘ _ Look. This is who you are going to save. _ ’

_ A boy with blond hair – a boy who looked nearly identical to him, smiling. A beautiful woman holding the boy, and the man who performed experiments also smiling. _

_ ‘Not just him. You are going to save this whole family.’ She smiles at him and Adrien cannot understand why he can’t be smiling with them too. Why is he the only one that has to be in pain? _

_ Adrien stares at the photograph for a little longer, but then his lower back hurts too much and Nathalie helps ease him back down on the bed. _

_ ‘Sleep now, Adrien.’ Her voice is soft and gentle. In the corner of his eye, he can see her turning a dial. _

_ ‘I don’t want to.’ _

_ ‘But it will help.’ _

_ A heaviness creeps in and he can barely keep his eyes open. Still, he pleads, ‘will you be there when I wake up?’ _

_ ‘Yes, of course Adrien. I promise.’ _

_ He’s doesn’t know if he can believe her, but then she sits on the chair next to the bed and takes his hand in hers. She holds it until the medication takes hold of him and the world fades to black. Before he falls unconscious, he says a silent prayer, hoping that she’ll be there when he wakes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think c:


	4. The Hospital, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette meets some old friends, hesitates, and plans a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing major this chapter. I'm giving you guys a break.

Marinette’s routine was simple. She would wake up, get ready for her day, eat breakfast and then drive to the store. She would look for things that she hadn’t been able to pick up the night before – things that her donors had requested – and then she’d pick up something a little extra for them as well. Julian liked chocolate, so she used to bring it for him after his surgeries. There was Aubrey who always kept up with the news, so she would bring her the newspaper and sometimes read it to her. When Marinette had everything she needed, she would drive down to the hospital and take care of her donors as best she could. Mostly, it was just spending time with them, but sometimes she would prep them for surgeries, and when they completed, she would clear their belongings out of the hospitals.

She threw a lot of the things away, because she couldn’t keep all of it. Marinette travelled around from city to city, becoming carers for donors all over France, she didn’t have the room in her suitcase. But after Julian completed, Marinette found herself buying chocolate for herself. And recently, Aubrey had completed, but Marinette would read the newspaper every day. Even if they have completed and their belongings had been disposed of, Marinette liked to keep the memory of her donors alive. After all, parts of them were alive somewhere – Julian’s heart, kidneys and eyes were now in a little boy or older woman, and Aubrey’s liver and lungs were in a young woman or middle aged man.

Marinette did not meet all the organ recipients, but sometimes she did. When they were curious and wanted to meet their donors, Marinette would arrange the meetings. Sometimes, they came to her after the surgeries, asking her to pass on their thanks, but those patients kept their distance. They didn’t want to see where their new organs came from.

Today, Marinette went to the store and bought herself some chocolate. She listened to the radio while she drove to the hospital. When she got there, she brought a cardboard box with her up to Aubrey’s room and began to pack away the belongings.

It felt weird to be touching Aubrey’s things without her there. She packed away her toothbrush, books and tapes. The room felt empty without the girl’s bright smile and her educated remarks. She had been so smart and curious about the world, and now she was gone. All that enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge just disappeared from the world in one night.

As the box began to fill up, Marinette started to wonder, as she always did, what belongings she would leave behind. There was her cassette player and the cassette. Her earrings too. But what else? A few pieces of clothing, maybe a book or two. Maybe a lot of newspaper clippings and maps from her research, but there wasn’t really anything beyond that.

Marinette certainly did not have as much as Aubrey – she wouldn’t even have enough to fill a single cardboard box. For a brief moment, Marinette wonders, would there be anything to bury at all?

When Marinette finished, she signed the release forms and handed them to the nurses. She carried out the box of Aubrey’s things and placed them in the trunk. Then, she sat in the car and cried because no one else would cry for Aubrey. Not right now, in this moment. If Audrey had any friends from her days in the schools or the half way homes, they would not hear until days, weeks, or even months later. The thought of leaving the world, without anyone knowing, was enough to depress Marinette. The chocolate helped, but only minimally.

After a while, Marinette left the hospital. She bought herself lunch at a nearby diner, but didn’t have an appetite. The waitress eyed her puffy eyes and red nose when she brought out the food but Marinette didn’t pay her any attention. She only picked at the sandwich, and finished half her coffee. Mostly, she was just there to sit and read the morning paper and to write.

On the pad of yellow legal paper, Marinette wrote out current events. She jotted down all the important headlines in the newspaper and then she began to describe Aubrey as best she could. This young woman who knew so much about the world and who wanted to know more. This young woman who had dreamed of travelling and of giving back to the world. She included a brief sketch of Aubrey, the best Marinette could do from memory, and when she finished, she folded the sheet up and slipped it into an envelope. She paid for her meal, leaving a tip, and then drove out of the town and found a nice tree in an open plot of land. Marinette grabbed the shovel from her trunk and began to dig. When she was satisfied, she brought out the box of Aubrey’s belongings and tucked the envelope inside the box.

She buried it and whispered a few words of goodbye.

* * *

 

Marinette’s suitcase is her constant companion. It’s been with her since Francoise Dupont, and through the cottages, and it’s been with her through all the towns she’s passed through as a carer. Just as she finishes packing her things, she realizes that this is her cardboard box. This is everything of hers that will be packed away and disposed of. Too bad she doesn’t know of any other carers who bury the boxes.

She tries to forget about that thought as she clears out of the apartment. It’s been three days since Aubrey’s passing, and Marinette had received the notice for her next assignment. She tries to keep her mind off the sad things because she’s already spent a day wallowing on her bed. Besides, she knows today is going to be better, and despite the long drive to Paris, Marinette is successful at keeping her spirits up.

She doesn’t even bother to stop by her new residence yet. She will have time to drop off her belongings later. Instead, she heads to the first bakery she sees and buys a box of macarons before going to the hospital. Marinette is delayed by the paperwork, but she fills out the necessary forms and talks to the nurses. She rushes through the whole procedure though, and she’s antsy to leave. Just as she begins to run out of patience, Marinette quickly excuses herself and bolts up the stairs. She’s even faster than the elevator, and she’s out of breath by the time she gets to the room.

“Alya!” she shouts as she turns into the room. Her best friend lifts her head and screams at the sight of Marinette, her expression a mixture of surprise and joy. Marinette runs to her bedside and the two of them dissolve into a mess of happy squeals and hugging.

Some strange stroke of luck had made fate bring them together. It’s been three years since they last said goodbye at Francoise Dupont and they had so much to say to each other. When they finally pull away, it’s Alya who speaks first.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, the smile on her face falters momentarily and she looks ashamed. “I didn’t get your letters until I was leaving Rouen, and by then I had heard you left Calais.”

Marinette shakes her head and hugs her friend again. “Don’t worry about it,” she says with a smile.

For a second the world is perfect – two friends reunited and everything forgiven. But then Marinette squeezes Alya a little too hard and she gasps. Marinette hears her sharp breath and pulls back, worry on her face.

Alya grimaces, her hand on her side where Marinette had had her arms around her. She takes a moment to settle down and grins at Marinette when the pain passes. “Liver,” she says.

Marinette nods. She’s always been careful when handling her donors, but in the excitement she had forgotten her job. Marinette’s eyes fall to her bag and she remembers the paperwork she has to go through with Alya. Reality comes crashing in. As lucky as they are to be reunited, the circumstances were not… ideal.

“It’s okay, we should get that out of the way,” Ayla says. She jerks her chin in the direction of Mari’s bag and Marinette sighs. She takes out of the documents and begins to read them to Alya. The paperwork doesn’t take long. Alya had signed most of it before with her previous carer and just needed to update it with Marinette. When they were done, Alya talked about how good her previous carer had been to her. When her camera broke during her move to the hospital, he had gone out and gotten her a new one, and the replacement could shoot videos as well as pictures.

Alya smiled sadly, staring at the wall, “we both cried when he got his notice…” her voice drifted off until she pulled herself from her thoughts and took Marinette’s hand in hers. “But I’m glad you’re here now. I couldn’t ask for a better carer.”

Marinette couldn’t help but hug Alya again, and this time, she was careful to avoid Alya’s side. Alya laughed and hugged her back. “You were always so emotional. You had the biggest heart out of us all.”

Marinette pulled back, a pout on her face and eyes watery. “We were having a moment, and you started it.” Alya laughed at her. “Now I’m not giving you the macarons.”

Alya’s mouth drops in mock outrage. “You’re terrible. The worst carer I’ve ever had.”

“You said I was the best just a moment ago.” Marinette’s voice is flat as she replies. She pushes the bag that holds the box back, away from Alya, fully enjoying the look on the other girl’s face.

“Give me the damn macarons, Mari.”

Marinette grins. She had missed her banter with Alya. She reaches into her bag and presents the macarons to her friend. Alya takes one, popping it into her mouth and then takes a second. Marinette takes a bite out of one before placing the box on the table, leaving it for Alya to have later.

“Oh, before I forget,” Alya says. There’s a flash of emotion on her face but Marinette can’t read it. “There’s someone else here.”

“From Francoise?”

Alya nods, “she moved here from Compiègne last month after they bumped up her second donation. She’s done that now and recovering. She doesn’t have any more anytime soon.”

“She?”

“Chloé.”

Marinette blinked at Alya, unsure how to take the news. It had been over a year since she last saw Chloé, and surely Alya didn’t know everything that happened at the cottages – unless Chloé had told her. Of course, Chloé and Marinette had grown distant even before the cottages and Alya knew that. But did Alya know about the kiss? Did she know how Chloé dangled Adrien in front of her? Did she know how Marinette ran away and hid herself from Chloé and everything she couldn’t face? Did she know that Marinette was this much of a coward?

Something in Alya’s expression told her that Alya might not have known everything, but she knew more than Marinette thought. She should have known. Alya was always quite the investigator. “She’s three floors down. You should go see her,” Alya says, and after a moment, she adds, “she misses you.”

Marinette ignores Alya’s suggestion, and instead, asks her own questions. “Why is she three floors down?”

“She refused to have a carer. That’s where they put the lone donors.”

Alya gives Marinette a look and Mari takes a breath before looking away. She slumps back into a chair. “Did she tell you about the cottages?”

“She told me about the song you used to listen to and she told me about Adrien.”

Hearing someone mention Adrien’s name is still enough to make her heart skip a beat, “What about him?” Marinette asked, curious.

Alya sighs, “All these years and you’re still hopeless.”

“What?” Marinette sounded offended now. “I avoided him like the plague back at Francoise.”

“But you liked him. A lot. Your tough act didn’t fool me. You were terrible at hiding it, and you still are,” Alya laughed.

Marinette gaped at her friend, mock outrage on her face. Today was just a rollercoaster of emotions. She scowled at her friend but the blush blooming on her face did nothing to help her case.

A camera materialized out of nowhere and Alya snapped a picture of Marinette’s face. “Case and point,” Alya laughed again. Marinette hit Alya lightly on the shoulder.

“Delete that!”

“Never! I make a point to save every photo I take.”

If she really wanted to, Marinette could snatch the camera from Alya’s hands, but she didn’t. After another moment of making fun of Marinette, Alya gestured for Marinette to come closer. They put their arms around each other and snapped a photo.

Alya smiled, “to commemorate our reunion.”

* * *

 

Even considering the good day Marinette had just finished. Even with how happy it had made her, Marinette threw herself into unpacking the moment she got into her new apartment. Usually, she only took out her essentials and lived out of her suitcase, or she would unpack gradually, on a need basis. But she needed to keep her mind off of Chloé.

There wasn’t much though, –  she didn’t have many belongings after all –  and soon, Marinette threw herself into her research as well. She needed to exhaust herself so that when it was time to sleep, she would just collapse and not think at all. But even through analyzing her maps and marking out all the locations of interest, Marinette couldn’t focus on her original. Thoughts of Chloé kept creeping in, and so did Alya’s advice to visit her.

But what would Marinette do or say when – _if_ – she saw Chloé again?

By the time Marinette was exhausted and retired to bed, she had gone through a million different scenarios in her head. Chloé half dead and only kept alive by life support. Chloé alive and well and still as fake as she was at the cottages. Chloé full of hate and vitriol for her…

What did Alya mean when she said that Chloé missed her? Why would Chloé want to see her?

It was well after midnight before her brain stopped racing with all the questions, and that was only after she had resolved to see Chloé, if only because they had once been classmates – friends. Good friends, even. As Marinette fell into a restless sleep, she hugged herself.

She owed it to Chloé to see her again, even after everything they’d been through because they were once all the other had left. They still were.

But Marinette didn’t go the next day. She did every other job a carer had but visit Alya because as much as she wanted to see her best friend, she didn’t want to be questioned about avoiding Chloé. And anyway, it wasn’t like she had to visit her donors every day.

Marinette put it off as much as she could, choosing to focus on finding her original instead. Paris was a big place and she had a lot of donor centers and other hospitals – and bakeries – to visit before she was moved somewhere else on another assignment. So she sectioned off the city into manageable areas and she’d visit each part of the city until she found her original.

Marinette wasn’t diving into this completely blind. Half a year ago, she had been lucky enough to run into a nurse in Toulouse who had just moved from Paris. She had told Marinette that she had seen her possible in Paris – working in a bakery. It narrowed down her search significantly, from all of France to just a city, but looking through all the bakeries in Paris was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

She visited three bakeries in the morning, and bought a few treats from each of them. In the afternoon, she visited some hospitals and asked around. Then, she had to file Alya’s paperwork and talk to doctors about her recovery. It was a long day, and Marinette spent most of it driving through the city. By the end of it, she was sick of croissants and baked treats and wondered how she was going to sustain herself with all the baked goods she was buying.

A week passed like that, and then Marinette couldn’t put off seeing Alya any longer – she was her carer after all. Plus, she had had no luck with her original and needed to see her friend to cheer herself up. So Marinette visited another two bakeries, inquired about their employees – still no luck – and bought a few croissants and macarons for Alya.

Alya looked better than the first day Marinette saw her, though she frowned at Marinette when she walked into the room, “where have you been?” Instead of sitting on her bed, Alya sat in a wheelchair by the window.

Marinette put her things down on a chair near the bed, but kept her bag, and then walked over. She wheeled Alya out of the room and toward the elevator. It was a nice day and they could go for a walk. “Sorry, carer stuff,” Marinette excused herself. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but Alya knew Marinette better than that.

They entered the elevator and Marinette pressed the button for the ground floor. Alya cut straight to the point. “Have you seen Chloé yet?” She always had a talent for making Marinette confront the things she didn’t want to. For a second, Marinette wondered how different her time at the cottages might have been if Alya had been in her group. She smiled sheepishly.

“No?”

Alya shook her head, but then Marinette reached into her bag and waved the bag of treats in front of her as a peace offering. Alya narrowed her eyes at Marinette. “You can’t bribe me… but I will have whatever you got me.”

Marinette smiled wheeled Alya out of the elevator. They went into a small courtyard and walked all the way to the bench at the far end, out of sight of most of the nurses and doctors. It was only then that Marinette unwrapped a croissant for Alya, saving the macarons for later.

“This beats hospital food. Thanks, Mari.”

“Have as much as you want, I have a lot back at my carer center,” Marinette offered.

Alya takes a bite of a croissant, still fresh and warm. She closes her eyes, enjoying her food before questioning Marinette. “Why so many baked goods? I mean, not that I’m complaining.”

Marinette shrugs. “Did Chloé ever tell you about Theo and Mireille?”

“She’s mentioned them, I think. Friends from the cottages?” Alya says between bites.

“Something like that. They told Chloé that they had seen her possible in Calais.”

Alya’s eyes go wide, “no way. What happened?”

“It wasn’t her. Not even close. I think they lied to her.”

“Why would they do something like that?”

 _‘Deferrals. They were using her. Using us.’_ But Marinette didn’t say it out loud. “Doesn’t matter. It's just that it got me thinking.”

“About your original?”

Marinette nods. “I asked around in the towns I went to as a carer. I was lucky enough to hear that I have a possible in Paris.”

“Who works in a bakery?” Alya asks. Marinette nods again and Alya bursts out laughing.

“Then you have your work cut out for you.”

With a heavy sigh, Marinette agrees, “I know, but I need to find her. I just… I need to.” Marinette didn’t have to explain to Alya how there was nothing else to do – how she needed to have a purpose in her life besides completing on the surgical table. Alya understands, not just because she knows Marinette the best out of everyone in the world, but because she feels it too, the emptiness of having nothing to live for. All clones feel it.

Alya stops eating and puts a hand on Marinette’s. She raises her eyebrows, “good luck, Mari.”

“Thanks.”

“But don’t get so busy that you don't make time to see Chloé.”

Leave it to Alya to not let things go. “What about you?” Marinette deflects.

Alya scoffs. “I’m your donor. I’m your job. You have to come see me. Chloé, on the other hand, is just three floors below my room and I won’t be mad if you miss a visit with me to see her.” As if Marinette could throw her off so easily.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “You were mad that I missed visits with you this week.”

“Yes, but that was because you weren’t missing my visits to see Chloé.”

“You’re so persistent.”

Alya grins cheekily at her. “Haven’t you missed me?”

The two friends smile at each other, and Marinette looks away first. Alya has a point. As much as Marinette would love it if that wasn’t the case… she knows she has to go see Chloé. Marinette sighs and scoots down the bench, closer to Alya. She rests her head on the back handle of the wheelchair. “Yeah – I _have_ missed you, and yeah I’ll go.”

“Good,” Alya says. She reaches over her shoulder and pats Marinette on her head. Marinette closes her eyes, and for a moment, it feels like the two of them are back at Francoise Dupont. How long ago all that seemed. “But don’t wait too long, Chloé doesn’t have that kind of time.” Alya’s words are quiet, and Marinette turns on her side, looking at Alya.

“I thought you said she wouldn’t have another donation for a while.”

“It’s a few months away still, but her second donation went… badly.”

Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at Alya. “How bad? Alya, why didn’t you say this sooner?”

Alya frowns, “I thought that telling you she was here would make you curious enough to look into it on your own, and you were missing for a week.”

“Right. Sorry.” Marinette sits up, her eyebrows knit together in worry. “Can I go now? Would you mind?”

“Go girl, you can see me anytime,” Alya says, “but first, bring me back to my room so I can eat in peace.”

Marinette wheels Alya back to the elevator and to her room. She leaves Alya by the window where she found her and then places the baked goods by Alya’s bedside table again. She hugs her friend, promising to visit again within the next few days and then gathers her things. Marinette heads to the elevators, going three floors down, and asks a nurse for Chloé’s room. Before she knows it, she’s standing in an empty room, staring at rumpled sheets on the bed.

There’s a sound coming from the bathroom attached to the room, and Marinette bites her lip. She doesn’t think she’s ready, but it was too late now. The door opened and Chloé hobbles out, bracing herself on a walker. She’s pale, and her blonde hair has lost its shine, though Chloé still keeps it tied back into a tight ponytail. She takes a few steps forward, not yet aware that Marinette’s there, and Marinette can see how she’s struggling with each step.

Marinette doesn’t know what to make of this. She’s seen so many clones in various states of deteriorating health, but this was _Chloé_. She had been her friend, one of her only friends at one point. Marinette inhales sharply. It never ceases to unease her whenever she realizes how fragile she, and the other clones are. How easily they could break and how they still endure.

Chloé looks up and her expression gives away her thoughts. “Mari?” she breathes out. Her voice is weak, and she can’t seem to believe that Marinette is really there.

Marinette’s smile is small, and her voice is just as quiet as Chloé’s, “hey.” They stare at each other for a moment, adjusting to the fact that they were really both here, before Marinette drops her things on a chair and helps Chloé to a the bed.

But Chloé shakes her head. “Actually, can we go for a walk?”

Marinette blinks, “yeah, of course we can.” She helps Chloé out of the room and they start walking through the halls. Marinette slowed her pace considerably to let Chloé keep up. They didn’t say anything for a long time, the silence only interrupted by Chloé’s labored breathing.

“You know, I’ve been keeping tabs on you and Adrien,” Chloé manages to say. It’s hard for her to speak, but Chloé is not one to back away from a challenge. She smiles weakly at Marinette, and Marinette returns the smile.

Marinette catches sight of a scar peeking out from under the collar of the robe Chloé is wearing; it goes straight down her chest. _Lung donation_ , Marinette gathers, no wonder Alya had said her donation had gone badly. Besides being one of the worst things to lose, Marinette knew all about the dangers of that particular procedure.

Chloé catches her staring, but she doesn’t say anything. To make it less awkward, Marinette says, “oh-h. How has he been?”

“He’s doing well. He’s only had one donation so far.”

“He’s been very lucky then.”

Chloé looks over at Marinette, “too bad I’ve never been lucky.” There’s something in her voice that reminds Marinette of the kiss back at the cottages, but she doesn’t linger on the thought. Chloé manages to chuckle, despite her hard time breathing, “but it’s okay. I kind of expect to complete on my next donation.” After a moment, she adds, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and it just seemed so impossible that I could complete without seeing you one more time.”

“Oh, Chloé.” Marinette doesn’t like where she’s going with this. She doesn’t want this reunion to be about the limited time they have to spend with each other. Marinette knows she’d let go of all the things Chloé’s ever done to her since their fall out at Francoise Dupont if only her friend could be a little more hopeful.

“You know, you hear things when you’re stuck in these hospitals. Rumors.”

“What kind of rumors?” Marinette glanced over at Chloé again. The blond had changed so much since they last saw each other. Her tabs on Adrien and Marinette gave away that she still cared deeply for her friends, but that she was still scared of being lonely too. But there was something else about her – like Chloé had finally seen the reality of their lives; their ever looming mortality.

Chloé paused for a moment, taking a breath. They had reached the end of the hall and it looked like Chloé couldn’t handle much more walking, so Marinette turned them both around and they headed back towards Chloé’s room. “Like, if you complete your fourth donation and you’re still conscious in some way, well, you find out that there are more donations… but there are no more recovery centers. No more carers. Just waiting until they switch you off.”

“But that’s not true, right? The fourth one is the last one. You’re free after that.”

“I don’t think it’s true either, but I doubt that you’re free after the fourth one,” Chloé says. Marinette doesn’t like the cynicism in her voice. “Not that it matters. No one ever makes it past the fourth donation.”

Chloé smiles at Marinette, as if that would soften the blow of her words. They reach Chloé’s room and Marinette helps her back into bed. But just as Marinette’s about to go, Chloé tugs on her shirt.

“You’ll come see me again, won’t you Mari?”

Marinette nods.

“Soon?”

Marinette places her hand over Chloé’s. “Yeah, of course.”

* * *

 

It had been a week or so since Marinette saw Chloé. She got to the hospital early that day and planned to make her rounds to the Parisian bakeries in the afternoon instead. After all, the doctors had talked to Marinette about all the baked goods she had been bringing in, and they agreed that Alya needed to stay on the diet that the hospital had planned for her. Deviations were only okay if they were _occasional_.

So that morning, Marinette brought in a fruit basket. She brought them to her room and peeled apples and oranges for her.

Alya played with her camera while Marinette worked. She waited for Marinette to say something first, but Marinette only talked about menial things like, “do you want to go outside today?”

Alya would shake her head, and with a sigh, she’d cut straight to the point. “How was she?”

“Fragile,” Marinette says after a moment’s thought. “But then again, Chloé’s always been weak, even if she pretends to be strong.”

Alya looks down, fidgeting with the camera in her hand. “She’s lonely, that’s all.”

Marinette doesn’t say anything for a second, there’s an important question in her mind. “Alya why did you want me to see her so badly?”

She’s quiet for a second and then snaps a picture of Marinette. “Did she ask you about the trip?”

“What trip? All she asked me was if I would go see her again.”

Alya laughs, “She totally chickened out. You should go see her again.”

Marinette rolls her eyes at Alya’s non-answer, but figures she’ll do so anyway. She had promised to, after all.

Alya flashes her a look, and her voice softens. “Go easy on her, okay?”

Marinette squirms. It feels like there’s something she’s missing here and she doesn’t like being out of the loop. “You’re being weird.”

Alya looks up again, “what?”

“You guys used to fight all the time when we were kids, but now you’re on her side?”

“I had a lot of time to talk to her and hear her side of the story,” she shrugs. “If there’s

anything I’ve learned since leaving Francoise Dupont, it’s that there’s always more than one side to the story.”

Marinette finished cutting up the fruit and she trades Alya the plate of fruit for her camera. Marinette looks over the picture Alya’s just taken of her. “This is really good. You make me look attractive.”

Alya laughs, the grin on her face is smug, and she eats an orange segment. “You remember when Madame Sabine came to our class and told us everything?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t stop thinking about that lately. About what I would be if not a donor.”

“You said you wanted to be a photographer when we were kids, right?” Marinette gestures to the camera and Alya nods.

“Yeah, but I think I actually want to be a journalist.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just like you said, Chloé and I used to fight all the time, but after I heard about her side of things, I got to know her and… understand her better.” She pauses to take another piece of orange. “Journalists uncover the truth, and all sides of the truth.”

Marinette steals an apple slice from the plate and takes a bite, “that’s an interesting thought.”

“What about you? Have you ever thought about what you would be if not a carer – and don’t say a donor.”

Marinette laughs. “To be honest? I’ve never given it much thought.”

“What about an artist? You’ve always been great at art.”

“No, that’s always been more Nath’s thing. I like drawing, but it’s not something I would want to do forever.” Marinette takes a moment to think the question over, but she draws a blank. She makes a face at Alya, “I don’t know. This is bothering me now.” What would her life be, if she had a choice?

Alya laughs at her again and shoves an orange wedge into Marinette’s mouth. The orange is sour after the apple slice she’s just had and Alya laughs harder, “you’ll figure it out.”

* * *

 

Marinette knocks on the door and opens it when she hears Chloé telling her to come in. She’s sitting up on her bed, brushing her hair out, a little mirror on a stand sits in her lap. She looks up and smiles when she sees Marinette coming in.

“You came back,” she says.

“I promised to,” Marinette replies. She sets her things down on one of the chairs and takes off her coat. She pulls up another chair to Chloé’s bed side and sits. “So. Alya mentioned something about a trip?”

Chloé slowed her brushing. Her voice was bordering on accusatory. “What did she say?”

“Just that you were supposed to ask me about a trip. She didn’t say anything after that,” Marinette explained. Chloé looked relieved and visibly relaxed.

“I just thought that it would be nice to take a trip. We could bring Adrien too. I know who his carer is. We could get in touch with them, and arrange it all.” Chloé stopped brushing her hair altogether, setting the brush down on her lap.

“What about Alya?”

Chloé shook her head. “I’ve talked to her about this and she said she doesn’t want to go.”

“Why not?”

Chloé shrugged. “Ask her.”

Marinette exhaled. She was tired of being sent back and forth between Chloé and Alya for answers, but she put the thought out of mind. She tried to think about the whole thing and how it would work. “Chloé, I don’t think a trip would be a good idea.”

“I just want to see Calais one more time. You can drive, and that would make it all easier. Just drive right up to the beach and we can sit on the sand and watch the ocean. That’s all I’m asking for.”

With Chloé’s health, Marinette isn’t sure the trip is a good idea. “Chloé…”

“Mari, I’ll be fine. The only thing that could kill me now is another donation.” She smiles bitterly at her own joke.

“That’s not funny.” Marinette frowns, but Chloé is as stubborn as she’s ever been.

“We’re going,” Chloé says. Her words have a ring of finality to it, and Marinette almost laughs. Chloé really hasn’t changed since they were kids.

“Fine, fine, fine.” Marinette exhales again, “fine. We can go,” and Chloé’s face instantly lights up. She grasps Marinette’s hand and squeezes.

“Thank you, Mari,” she says. She turns and pulls open the drawer next to her bed. She rummages around for a second and pulls out a notebook. She flips through it, and Marinette can see the notes and scribbles on the pages. It’s nearly full with Chloé’s thoughts and reminders. Finally, she finds the page she’s looking for and she tears it out. There’s a name and the address of a carer center on it.

“That’s Adrien’s carer – isn’t it such a coincidence?”

Marinette looks at the scrap of paper that Chloé hands to her. _Rose._ “Oh. Oh my god, yeah. What are the chances?”

“I don’t know the phone number, but you can probably find that out with just the address, right?” Marinette nods in response. “Good,” Chloé says. “And thank you so much for doing all of this.”

“No problem,” Marinette says, but she’s apprehensive. She knows the troubles of transporting and moving donors, especially when they’re weak or unstable as Chloé is, and just the other day, Chloé could barely make it down the hall. She smiles at Chloé, hoping that maybe there’s some way to get out of all of this. Perhaps Rose would agree with Marinette and say no to letting Adrien go.

They talk for a little while longer. Chloé hands the brush to Marinette, and Marinette starts to brush her hair out. She remembers doing this for Chloé once, when they were children with Alya and the other girls in their class. They all brushed each other’s hair and then braided it. They came up with ridiculous hairstyles and all laughed. It was so long ago, when everything was so simple..

Chloé kept making plans as to how this could all work out, but Marinette only halfheartedly listened while she brushed out Chloé’s hair. When she did pay attention to what Chloé was saying, all she could think about were the potential accidents that could occur, and how hard it would be to even bring Chloé onto the beach. From her memory of Calais, there had been a steep set of stairs from the boardwalk down to the sand, and it would be hard to get Chloé down and back up.

But she managed to give Chloé the impression that she would carry out the whole plan. Finally, Marinette excused herself, returning the brush before going upstairs to see Alya. She needed to get her friend’s opinion on this – after all, Alya had been so adamant that Marinette hear Chloé out, but surely she didn’t think that moving Chloé across France was a good idea.

Alya’s fiddling with her camera as she always is, when Marinette gets to her room. She’s also eating one of the croissants Marinette had snuck to her earlier in the week.

She perks up immediately when the door opens. “Did you talk to Chloé?” Alya asks.

“You can’t think that this is okay, right? Chloé needs to be in the hospital right now. She can’t be running all over France.” Marinette couldn’t believe the idea that Alya would be alright with this plan.

“It’s not as bad as you make it sound.” Alya frowns.

“Then why aren’t you going? Chloé said you didn't want to come, but it’s because you can’t, isn’t it? Alya, I know what liver donations can do to you. I’ve seen enough as a carer to know, and you just had another donation before I got here.”

Alya shakes her head, denying her accusations. “Marinette, that’s not it. I don’t want to go because the three of you need to sort this out yourselves. Chloé has things she needs to get off her chest, and she needs you two to listen to her, not me. I’ve already heard it all.”

All this mystery did nothing to help Marinette make up her mind. She just wanted Alya to come out and say it. “What is it?”

“It’s not for me to say. I know her side of the story, but it’s _her_ side of the story. She needs to tell this one.” Alya is stubborn and she’s sticking to her stance. Marinette sighs. She knows that she won’t get Alya to budge, but her worries are still present. She can’t shake the feeling that this is all a bad idea.

She sits on Alya’s bedside and shakes her head. “Why can’t she just tell me here? It would make things easier.”

“From what she’s told me, it’s because she regrets something that happened in Calais, but that’s really all I can tell you. Besides, she needs Adrien to be there too.” Marinette is still shaking her head, so Alya takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Marinette, as someone who’s done two donations, I can say that we’re stronger than we look.” Marinette opens her mouth to say something but Alya cuts off her objections. “Last time you said Chloé was fragile, but she’s stronger than you think.”

“Alya, I already said, I’m a carer. I know what these donations do to you guys.”

“Yes, but Mari, we’re the donors. Don’t you think we know more than anyone what these donations have done to us, and how strong we are? Just listen to Chloé. Give her a chance.”

Marinette takes out the slip of paper that Chloé had given her. Rose’s carer center address is scribbled on it, and Alya looks it over.

“The front desk will have the number. Just give Rose a call.”

“Fine,” Marinette sighs. “But if Rose says no to all of this, then that’s that.”

Alya smiles, “of course.” Marinette stands and pulls on her jacket and bag. She puts the slip of paper away again and checks that she has everything before she leaves. Before she gets going, Alya grabs her wrist. “Take this with you,” she says, holding her camera out to Marinette.

“No way. Why?”

“Because I’m not going, but I still want to see what Calais was like. After all, you spent your years away from me there.”

“I also spent those years in Bordeaux, Toulouse, Vichy, and Lyon.”

Alya hits her arm, “you know what I mean.”

Marinette is reluctant. “But this is _your camera._ What if I break it?”

Alya rolls her eyes, “Then buy me a new one!” she says, before an impish grin lights up her face. “Something that can shoot HD would be nice.”

“So that’s what this is really about. You just want a new camera.”

“Nah,” Alya laughs, and the mood feels somewhat lighter than earlier. “Just make some nice memories on the trip and take photos so show me later.”

“Alright,” Marinette relents. She takes the camera and puts it away in her bag.

* * *

 

Marinette couldn’t sleep for the next few nights, her thoughts consumed with the things Chloé had said. Not just about the trip, but the prospect of seeing Adrien again – the very idea that there was a slip of paper on her desk at that moment that could connect her back to him was enough to keep her up. She had already found the number for that carer center earlier that week but she couldn’t bring herself to call.

So she put all her sleeplessness towards something productive. She checked over her lists of bakeries, hospitals and carer centers. She filled up her time with finding her original and drove around Paris until all the stores and hospitals were closed. When she got back to her carer center, she’d tell herself that it was too late at night to call Rose.

It was only after the fifth argument she had with Alya about it that that Marinette finally picked up her cellphone and called. Rose was out, likely seeing her donors – seeing Adrien – but the man on the other end of the line was nice enough to give Marinette Rose’s cell number. She scribbled it down and then debated with herself whether to call again. She paced around her room and left it alone for three nights. Finally after a day of bakeries, and visiting Alya and Chloé, Marinette returned to her carer center and called again.

She listened to the ringing last for what seems hours before someone picked up. “Hello?” came a cheery voice. Marinette paused, unsure of how to start.

“R-rose?”

“Yes, I’m Rose. Who is this?”

“It’s Marinette.”

There was the distinct sound of Rose sharply inhaling and then a high pitched squeal. “Oh my _god_ Mari!”

Marinette help the phone away from her ear, wincing at the squeal. She smiled to herself though, glad that Rose was just as she remembered her. There were so many changes all around her, it was lovely to hear some things stayed the same.

“How have you been? How did you get my number? This is just crazy, you won’t believe who my donor is.”

Marinette paused again, her breath caught in her throat for a second. “A-actually, Rose. That’s why I called. Let me explain.” Marinette smiled even though Rose couldn’t see it and launched into an explanation about the trip. She recounted how she had become Alya’s donor and how Chloé was moved to their hospital. Talking about it all felt strangely surreal. There were just too many coincidences: Alya was her donor, Chloé moving to Paris, and Rose becoming Adrien’s carer. She finished with the proposal about the trip. She told Rose that it was Chloé’s idea and told her how the trip needed to be the three of them, but she would understand if Rose refused because of the circumstances. “I know it’s a lot to ask. He’s your responsibility after all, and I’d be the only carer with the two of them on this trip.”

Rose was quiet for a second, but she didn’t take long to reply. “Actually, Marinette, I don't mind. I trust you, but it’s not really up to me. I think it would be better if you ask Adrien if he wants to go.”

Wait. What? No, no, that was not the plan. The plan was Rose saying no, and Marinette finally having an excuse to avoid this whole situation. Bringing Adrien in was _not_ in the plans.

“Hold on a second, I’m almost at the hospital, or I can call you back when I get to Adrien’s room and you two can talk about it?”

“No! No, it’s okay.” Marinette’s voice cracks and she winces. Stupid, _stupid_... “Just, can you ask him about it for me then? I need to... I need…” Marinette looked around her room for some kind of excuse. She catches sight of Alya’s camera on her desk. “I actually need to head back to the hospital. I uh, took Alya’s camera by accident and she’ll want it back.”

“Is this not your cell number?” Rose asks and Marinette’s heart stops in her chest.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” Marinette wants to kick herself. Yes this was her cell number. She was talking _from her cellphone_. Her number was probably on Rose’s screen as they spoke.

“Oh, okay.” Rose didn’t sound like she suspected any of Marinette’s lies, but then again, Rose had always been kind like that. She’d pretend that she hadn’t noticed anything even if she had. “Well then, you can call me back at any time, okay?”

“Sure thing. I’ll probably call on the weekend. I’m going to run some errands while I’m out and tomorrow’s going to be busy too.”

“That works.” Rose paused and then laughed. “So Alya’s still playing with her old camera?”

“She got a new one. It was a gift from her last carer.”

“That’s great. I remember her always taking pictures of us back at Francoise Dupont.”

Marinette smiled again. “Yeah, I think she’s kept all the photos somewhere. She has a lot of things for… for a donor.” Marinette hears shuffling on Rose’s end and she worries that Rose is getting closer to the hospital, and then she would have no excuse but to talk to him. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. Tell me what… what Adrien says.”

They say their goodbyes and Marinette hangs up and flops face down on her bed, groaning against her pillow. She had hoped that Rose would give her a straight up “no” to the whole thing. Then it wouldn’t be her fault if the trip plans didn’t go through. But of course Rose would ask Adrien for his opinion, and knowing Adrien, he would probably say yes to it all.

Marinette sighs and sits up on the bed. She rubs at her face as she tries to get her thoughts in order before standing up. She pulls out the notes from her research and begins to organize everything. She can already tell that she won’t sleep tonight, but this time, her mind was filled with thoughts about the trip. What will it be like when she sees Adrien again? How is he anyway?

She tried to push those thoughts away, desperately trying to come up with a reason to cancel the trip. But there wasn’t anything that could stop it now, and sooner or later, Marinette was going to have to see him again.

* * *

 

The doctors and nurses are eyeing Marinette when she enters the hospital with another bag filled with treats. She gives the majority of the baked goods to them. After all, she couldn’t possibly finish all of it on her own, and Alya wasn’t allowed to have this much. She still sneaks macarons to Alya sometimes. They were her favourite, and a treat every now and then wouldn’t hurt.

After handing out the baked goods, Marinette goes up to Alya’s room and recounts the phone call to her. Alya’s smiling because Marinette’s finally given in and called, and Marinette can’t help but roll her eyes at the smug expression on her best friend’s face. She should have seen it coming.

“I can’t believe you lied to Rose about not having a cellphone and about my camera. Lying to Rose is like kicking a puppy,” Alya clicks her tongue, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

“But I called her like you told me to! Isn’t that enough already?” It had been extremely difficult and Marinette wants it on the record.

“You still lied to her!”

Marinette looked down at her lap. “I’m pretty sure she knew I was lying. You know how she does that thing where she ignores it and lets you get away with it.”

“Rose is too nice. She should have called you out on it and then you’d have been able to ask Adrien about the trip yourself.”

The idea is enough to bring an unpleasant shiver down her back. “Okay, but aren’t you forgetting that this is all Chloé’s idea? She’s the one who wants to ask Adrien to come along.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t want to see him again either.” Alya smirks. “If your face is any indication, I’d say that you’re hoping he says ‘yes’ too.”

Marinette looks up and touches her face. It feels hot and Alya snaps a picture.

“This one is definitely a keeper.”

Her eyes widen. Last thing Marinette knew, _she_ had the camera. “What – you have a second camera?”

“Duh.”

 _She should have seen this coming._ Marinette stands, shaking her head at her best friend. “I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to wash my face,” Marinette calls over her shoulder.

Marinette walks out into the hallway and Alya looks through her camera at the picture she’s just taken. Marinette looks surprised, her hand is on her cheek and her face is red. God, this girl was so gone on that boy. Alya chuckles to herself as an idea strikes her. She leans over the side of her bed and digs Marinette’s cellphone out of her bag.

Alya’s smirking when Marinette returns from the bathroom and it only takes Marinette a minute to realize what’s happening.

“Alya, you did no –”  But that minute means she’s too late to stop it.

Alya holds a hand up, “Rose? Hi! It’s Alya.”

“Oh my _god._ ” Marinette’s face drains of colour. It’s a funny contrast to the picture Alya’s just taken of the girl, and she only half laments that she can’t take a picture of Marinette’s expression because she was on the phone.

Rose’s voice is full of energy and it transports Alya all the way back to Francoise Dupont. “Oh my gosh, Alya! It’s been awhile. Are you with Marinette?”

“Yeah! She just got a new cellphone in preparation for the trip –” Marinette is shaking her head, and she puts her hands up.

“Don’t Alya. Please don’t.” She hisses, desperate to stop Alya. But her friend wasn’t having any of it. Marinette looked ready to pry her cellphone from Alya’s hands one way or another, but Alya had just in time to finish her sentence.

“– speaking of which, is Adrien there?”

“Yeah, want to talk to him?”

“Yes!”

The phone’s wretched out of Alya’s hand and Marinette’s about to scream, but Alya’s laughing too hard to take Marinette seriously, and there’s suddenly a voice on the other end of the line.

“ _Hello_?”

The sound of his voice is enough to make her freeze and Marinette’s heart drops. Alya gestures for Marinette to bring the phone up to her ear as Adrien’s voice is faintly heard from the receiver. “Anyone there?”

Alya grabs Marinette’s hand and shoves the phone at her face. “Answer him!” she hisses..

She finally does. “H-hi,” Marinette strangles out. She hears his breath catch on the other end.

“ _Marinette._ ”

“ _Adrien._ ”

Marinette’s lips spread into a smile and she can’t help the aching in her chest. Just hearing his voice gets to her – the way he said her name, all soft and breathy and like there’s a smile on his lips. She brings a hand up to her face again and it feels as hot as it did before.

Alya grinned at her handiwork and nudged Marinette to continue. She snapped out of her daze and blinked a few times. “Uh, um. Has Rose told you anything about the trip?”

“Yeah, she mentioned it,” he pauses for a second. The aching in Marinette’s chest turns to warmth and she remembers the feeling from when they took their first walk together through the woods at the cottages. “I want to go.”

Marinette smiles, though Adrien can’t see it. “Yeah? Okay.” she breathes out. And just like that, all of Marinette’s apprehension about the trip fly out the window. For some reason, hearing Adrien agree to the trip felt like a relief. All the tension that had been building up inside Marinette since Chloé brought it up released itself and Marinette sat herself down on Alya’s bedside lest she fall. “I’ll tell Chloé and I’ll arrange everything with Rose.”

“That’s great,” he says. “Hey, Marinette?”

“Yeah?” The sound of her name falling out of his lips will never cease to affect her.

There’s an agonizing silence on the line that lasts a few seconds. Marinette almost forgets to breathe, but then she hears him chuckle on the other end. “Never mind. Next time. When I see you.”

“Okay,” she replies, because as curious as she is, her mind isn’t working and she’s lost all ability to speak properly. He hangs up and Marinette drops the phone on the bed.

Alya tugs on Marinette’s hand. “So?” she inquires.

“He said he’s coming.”

Alya grins, “And you can’t stop smiling.”

Marinette covers her face, both to shield herself from Alya and avoid looking at the smug look on the other girl’s face. “Oh my god, leave me alone.”

“Girl, you have it soooooo bad,” Alya laughs. Marinette’s face is red again and she hits Alya’s arm.

“I’m going to wash my face again,” Marinette says as she stands. “And this time, I’m not leaving you alone with my stuff.” She drops her cellphone into her bag and leaves.

* * *

 

The next week is spent filling out paperwork and forms and getting clearance from the hospital. Chloé was only allowed to leave the hospital on the condition that Marinette bring along emergency respiratory equipment and a load of other things. The trunk of her car could barely fit it all. Adrien came with less medical restrictions, but release forms and transfer forms had to be submitted from both Marinette and Rose. Coordinating that with their hospitals was a nightmare, and Marinette could not thank Rose enough.

With everything getting so busy, Marinette hardly had time to look for her original. She only visited a bakery a day and still, there was no luck. It seemed she wasn’t any closer to narrowing down the possibilities either. There were just too many bakeries in Paris. Her search would have to take a backseat until everything calmed down again.

And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Alya had been right. This had all been Chloé’s idea, but Marinette hadn’t realized how much she had missed Adrien and how much she wanted to see him again until it was an actual possibility. It was strange, she thought she had given up these attachments when she became a carer, but now all her feelings were coming back at her full force. The wait for the paperwork to go through just made everything more agonizing.

Marinette became antsy in her restlessness. So much so that Alya grew annoyed and sent her off to see Chloé instead whenever she came for her visits. Chloé understood Marinette’s excitement, and for a while, Marinette forgot that there was a reason behind this whole trip. One she had tried long to forget. Finally, when the day of the trip arrived, Marinette could barely contain herself.

“Chloé?” Marinette says. She pokes her head around the corner to find Chloé dressed in the yellow dress and ready to go. Marinette smiles and Chloé returns it.

“I look good, don’t I?” Chloé asks. She looks smug, but then giggles and just like that, it’s like when they were children again.

“You were always the fashionable one,” Marinette laughs, even though it’s the dress that she made. She wheels Chloé to the elevator and then through the main floor until the reach the car. They couldn’t bring the wheelchair along, but Marinette wanted Chloé to avoid as much walking as possible today. A few nurses wish them a safe trip and back on their way out. Marinette checks over everything one last time, and soon they start on their way.

The first part of the trip was the longest. Marinette had dropped by a few bakeries that morning and she picked up treats for Chloé, so most of the time, Chloé stared out the window, taking in the sight of Paris as she snacked on a danish. Chloé only ever saw the outside world through the window of her hospital room or through the window of a truck when she was shuttled between hospitals. But Marinette let her roll the window down and she felt the air rushing by. When Chloé saw an interesting shop or boutique, Marinette would stop the car and help her inside. They couldn’t stay long, and they couldn’t really buy much, but the freedom of being able to interact with the outside world was astounding to her.

When they finally made it out of Paris, Chloé was satisfied, and finished her Danish, leaving Marinette to focus on driving. The first stop was to pick up Adrien, so Marinette headed for Arras.

“Mari?”

“Hmm?” Marinette keeps her eyes on the road, but motions for Chloé to continue.

“How will we find Adrien once we get there?”

“Rose told me to give her a call and she’ll bring him out.”

Chloé pauses before she asks her next question. “How do you think Adrien is? What do you think he looks like now?”

Marinette’s heart skips a beat. “I don’t know.” She takes a quick glance at Chloé before looking back at the road. Chloé looked better than she had when Marinette first saw her, and the yellow dress complimented her well. But Chloé had still become unnaturally pale and there were bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She looked excited about the whole trip, but nervous, and her exhaustion over just getting out of the hospital emphasized all of that.

It hits Marinette that Chloé wasn’t asking because they were both eager to see Adrien again, but because Adrien had always looked _good_ and Chloé was looking… not so good anymore. At Francoise Dupont, both Adrien and Chloé had youth on their side. Their round faces and big eyes were adorable. At the cottages, it was undeniable that both had grown up to be attractive young adults. Chloé never had an awkward puberty stage and she had filled out her body quite well, and Adrien looked like he was always glowing. Especially when he stood in the sun. Marinette remembers their walk through the woods vividly. Whenever they stepped under a patch of sunlight, his hair would catch the sun and his eyes would twinkle in the light. And damn it, his eyes were so expressive. Marinette remembers getting lost in them on more than one occasion, though she hated to admit it to herself. Francoise Dupont and the cottages were a time when she denied her feelings for him.

Marinette shakes herself from her thoughts, “Chloé, I told you. You look good.” Her statement seemed to be enough to calm her friend down, and Marinette takes a hand off the steering wheel and places it on Chloé’s hand for good measure. She gives her friend another quick glance, “Really, you’re beautiful.”

Chloé smiles and it's about an hour into their drive when they reach Compiègne and stop for a late lunch. Chloé looks around the town as if it was her first time there.

“I spent more than a year here,” Chloé says, “but I never even saw the place.”

Marinette worries that Chloé’s becoming apprehensive about the trip. When they leave Compiègne, Chloé is more nervous than excited, and she starts to ask Marinette if it’s not too late to turn back to Paris.

“Maybe you’re right, Mari. Maybe this trip is too much for me.”

“Chloé, you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

Marinette starts the car and gets back onto the road. It will be another hour till they reach Arras, so Marinette tries to distract Chloé from her thoughts. “Can you reach my bag in the backseat?”

Chloé turns and retrieves the bag.

“Alya lent me her camera for the trip. Take it out, we should take pictures.” Marinette keeps her eyes on the road, but she hears Chloé rummaging through her bag and then the clicking of the camera. She smiles.

“Did you take a good one?”

“It’s all blurry. We’re driving too fast.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, it’s fine.” There’s another click of the shutter. “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.” Marinette sighs, relieved, and then smiles. It’s no time at all before Chloé is snapping pictures of everything, and then they take a pit stop on the side of the road so Chloé can snap a picture of the two of them together. Marinette makes a mental note to remember to thank Alya for the camera later on, and then they are on their way again.

Chloé’s laughing at all the silly pictures she gets and chattering about their time at Francoise Dupont.

“Do you remember that fashion show we had?”

Of course she did.“You and Sabrina posed while Alya took pictures of you guys.” she remembers it fondly.

“I wish we could do that again. This dress is lovely, and I want Alya to take pictures of me in it.”

“Maybe when we get back to Paris.” Marinette likes the idea. “We should all go ”

“You should join us,” Chloé adds. “I want you to be in the pictures too.”

Marinette laughs. “I’m not much of a model.”

They arrive in Arras soon after, and Marinette fishes her cellphone from her bag. She makes a call to Rose. All of Marinette’s nerves were prickling and she felt the aching in her chest again. Everything feels surreal and someone picks up on the other end.

“Hello?” It was not Rose’s voice on the other line.

“Adrien?” She sounds breathless. Marinette had not been expecting him.

“Hi Mari,” she hears a nervous chuckle from his end. “Rose lent me her cellphone. Are you here?”

Her finger tighten against the steering wheel. “Almost. We just arrived in Arras. We’re looking for the hospital now.”

“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute. I’ll wait out front for you.” he says before hanging up.

Marinette drops the phone back in her bag, perhaps a little harsher than normal and Chloé looks over in concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine.” Marinette answers, her voice a little higher too. She takes a deep breath. She feels like her whole body is tingling, and her nerves start acting up again. She turns at the intersection and the hospital is within sight. They’re close, _so close._

“Are you nervous?” Chloé asks. Marinette nods in response. “Are you going to be okay?”

Marinette looks at Chloé. “I could ask you the same.”

Chloé gives a nervous laugh herself and smiles. “I think I’ll be fine.”

They pull into the parking lot, and Marinette parks the car. For a second, the two girls sit in the car, trying to compose themselves.

“Do I look alright?” Chloé asks again.

“Stunning. Beautiful,” Marinette reaches for Chloé’s hand and gives it a light squeeze. They could do this.

“Are you ready?” Chloé asks her.

Marinette shakes her head, “not at all.” She confesses, chuckling nervously. She turns off the engine of the car and takes a minute to breathe. She can’t help but think back to the cottages. That had been the last time that the three of them had been together. Wasn’t that only three years ago? It felt like a lifetime now. She takes a deep breath and gets out of the car anyway. _She could do this._

She looks to the front of the hospital, and there he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think c:


	5. The Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the titanic happens AND BY THAT I DON’T MEAN I SINK ANY SHIPS. No ships are sunk. This is The Happy Chapter, I swear. Also, an unexpected appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I don't know how many chapters this fic is anymore. Everything is plotted out, but separating the events into chapters is... challenging.
> 
> Suggested Listening: [Broken Bones by Aqualung](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqdRjT0mK2U)

 

Marinette glances into the rearview mirror for the third time, and just like the first and second time she looked in the mirror, she catches Adrien watching her. He pretends to look away when she sees him, but the smile on his face and the red on his ears give him away. She looks back at the road, smiling to herself a bit too.

When they had arrived at the hospital, Adrien had been waiting out front for them. The moment Marinette got out of the car, they saw each other and it was like the world fell away. Adrien took slow steps towards her, and when they reached each other, he lifted his arms slowly, pulling her into a hug. It was sweet but tentative, like he wasn’t quite sure this was real, like he needed to check that she was there and that this was happening. Marinette, too, wrapped her arms around him, not quite sure herself that this was happening, even though she arranged it all. His hold around her tightened, and he tucked her head under his chin. It wasn’t until Marinette, coming to her senses, said, “Chloé. Chloé’s in the car,” that they pulled away from each other.

Adrien chuckled to himself, “Ri-right.” He went to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. He smiled at Chloé and hugged her too. He kissed her cheek in greeting, “hi, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Chloé had replied, with a strength and confidence Marinette hadn’t thought possible. With their greetings out of the way, they all got in the car, and they were on their way.

The first half hour of the trip was filled with awkward silences, and failed attempts at small talk. Adrien tried to fill some of the silences, and Chloé took pictures of the three of them to pass the time. But for three people who had once been very close, it seemed that there wasn’t really anything to say. They had all grown older, matured, and were now different. They were still very dear to each other, they were still all that they had in the world, but each of them had changed.

“You cut your hair,” Chloé remarked after another bout of silence. Adrien looked away from Marinette and turned to Chloé.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. My hair,” He chuckled bashfully. His hand went up and he ran it through his hair. “I got an undercut. Does it look weird?”

Marinette shook her head, and summed up their entire encounter till now. “Not weird. Just different.”

“You know what’s weird?” Adrien asked. He ran his hand through his hair and second time and then leaned back in the car seat.

“What?” Chloé rolled down the window and leaned her head on it. She looked up at the sky. Even though clouds were building up, she liked the cool air and the wind blowing through her hair. She smiled.

“The three of us together again. It’s a bit strange.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Why do you say that?”

“I just never thought I’d see either of you again,” Adrien admitted. “But here you both are.”

“I knew I’d see Marinette again,” Chloé replied. “I knew I wouldn’t complete without seeing her at least one more time, and then she happened to be at the hospital I was transferred to.”

“So was Alya.”

“And Rose became my carer.” Adrien added.

Marinette smiled wistfully. Fate had weird ways.. “It’s just one coincidence after another.”

Chloé looked up at the two of them and giggled. “What?” they asked her in unison.

She shook her head. “All those coincidences. Little things that all came together to bring us to where we are now.” She leaned her head back on the open window. “I’m glad for them.”

“So are we.”

* * *

 

When they reached Calais, Marinette parked by the diner that Mireille and Theo had taken them to years ago. They all got out of the car, and Marinette helped Chloé set up her walker before going to the trunk and unloading some of the emergency equipment. Adrien left his umbrella and his bag in the car. His supplies were not as urgent as Chloé’s were.

Chloé glanced up at the diner sign. A letter had fallen off. “You know, I haven’t been there since Theo and Mirelle took us here.” With Adrien supporting her, Chloé lifted the camera up and snapped a picture of the sign, and then another of the diner itself.

Without even realizing, Marinette smiled. She’d made the right choice taking the camera from Alya. Chloé seemed to be having a blast with it

“I went once, after you had both left,” Adrien said and Marinette’s attention snapped right back to him. “With a girl named Manon. She came to the cottages a year after us.” Marinette raised her eyebrow at him. She didn’t ask her question, but he seemed to know what she wanted to know. “It seems there was a tradition at the cottages. Last person of the current year to leave spends the day with the last person to get their notice. Aurore spent the day with me. I spent the day with Manon a year later.”

“And Manon spends the day with someone else,” Chloé continued. Adrien nodded.

“That’s a nice tradition,” Marinette closed the trunk. “I wish I had something like that when I left the cottages.”

Adrien shook his head, his expression oddly sad. “It kind of sucked, actually. Manon was nice, but I hardly knew her. I was saying goodbye to a stranger.” When the two girls fell silent, Adrien shrugged. It was what it was.

They walked away from the diner then, and headed towards the beach. They went at Chloé’s pace so that she could keep up, but she still struggled with her walker. A few pedestrians on the street eyed them, but looked away when Marinette or Adrien made eye contact. With donations so readily available, it was uncommon to see someone unwell. Chloé’s walker drew people’s attention and told everyone what they were. Clones.

But Marinette was used to it by now. When she first started as a carer, she started to interact with the outside world more. People who were not used to dealing with clones, or who were prejudiced, treated her rudely and with disdain. Somehow, they just couldn’t come to see Marinette as another human being. She was a thing, something there to be harvested once she was no longer useful. It was disheartening, but she barely noticed it anymore. If she could travel back in time, she would tell her younger self that, despite the exceptions like Adrien, yes, people from the outside world are dangerous.

When some of the staring got excessive, Chloé would stop walking and take a picture of the people staring. Some of them made faces at them, displeased that they had been photographed, but none of them approached the trio. It seemed that they wanted to avoid clones no matter what. Chloé’s act of silent rebellion was enough to grant them some peace during the rest of their outing.

The finally made it to the beach and Adrien ran ahead, along the boardwalk and then down the set of stairs to the beach. There were more clouds in the sky now, but it was still a nice day. And the ocean breeze felt wonderful. It was harder for Chloé to make it down the stairs, just as Marinette predicted, but between her and Adrien, they managed all the same. When they got to the bottom, Marinette pulled out a blanket and spread it over the sand. The two girls sat on it while they watched Adrien run along the shore to an abandoned ship that had not been there the last time they were here. Chloé took a minute to gain control over her laboured breathing, but once she recovered she took every opportunity to photograph Adrien on the beach, running this way and that, and climbing up the boat. When the wind picked up, and there was a brief moment of sunlight, Chloé snapped a good one of Marinette, smiling.

“He’s like a little boy,” Chloé said after a moment. Marinette nodded.

“He’s always been full of energy. There just wasn’t anywhere to go or explore at Francoise Dupont.”

“That’s true. Did you know he went on a walk everyday back at the cottages? He was always going somewhere.”

”“Really?” Marinette turned away from the ocean and looked at Chloé.

“Yeah, he went on more walks after you left. He woke me up every morning even though he tried to be quiet. He walked through the woods a lot, and knew about a bunch of secret places.”

“What kind of secret places?”

“Places where you can be alone. Like the barn by the far end of the fields. It’s mostly empty except for hay.”

Marinette felt her heart clench. Of course she knew what Chloé had been talking about. All those special, secret places had been _hers_. Her hiding places when the cottage felt claustrophobic and grew to be too much for her fragile heart to bear. Knowing that Adrien had adopted them as his caused a weird feeling in her chest. She took a moment to glance at Adrien. He had climbed up onto the abandoned ship, and disappeared behind the bridge of the ship. “Chloé, do you mind if I leave you here by yourself for a moment? I want to see the ship too.”

“I’ll be fine. You go ahead.” Chloé smiles up at Marinette, and it’s enough to reassure her so Marinette sets down her bag and walks over to the ship. Adrien catches sight of her when she approaches, he goes to the bridge, fiddling with the controls.

“All aboard!” he yells, before turning around and walking to the stern. He smiles down at her and Marinette laughs. Adrien extends a hand to her and she takes it. He pulls her up, and they almost lose their balance, but they catch each other just in time, “Careful there.” He squeezes her hand, and doesn’t let go. “Just to be safe.”

Marinette rolls her eyes at him, but she smiles anyway. “Have you gone below the deck yet?” she asks.

“Not yet, want to go together?”

Marinette looks over her shoulder and sees Chloé further down the beach, waving to them. Even from a distance, Marinette can see Chloé lifting the camera to snap a picture of her and Adrien on the ship. When Chloé puts the camera down, Marinette waves back and points down, and waits until she can see Chloé nod. “Okay, let’s go.”

Adrien goes first. He jumps down the hole in the boards, and his hand goes to his side. He winces, looking away from her, but Marinette was too fast for him.

Worry seizes her.  “Are you okay?” Marinette asks from above, ready to climb down and check on him.

“I’m fine,” he says, his smile bright as usual, before holding his hand out to help her down. She takes it and she lands gracefully. Looking around, it’s dusty and damp, but there’s a sense of secrecy here that Marinette loves. Everything sounds muted, even the waves. The only thing the two of them can hear with clarity is the sound of each other’s breathing.

It’s like they’re the only two people left in the world..

There’s a small hallway that leads to two rooms. One for storage, and the other had a hammock and a few wooden crates. There was nothing else to be found down there. Adrien kicks away broken boards and walks over to a porthole close to the stern, tugging at Marinette’s hand to get her to follow. Around some of the tighter corners, Adrien settles a hand on the small of her back, carefully guiding her around the broken boards and other obstacles. His touch is light and Marinette doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It’s almost like we’re out at sea,” he says, looking out of the small window. Marinette takes a step closer and looks out. She can see Chloé on the beach taking pictures of the seagulls.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if we could go sailing?” Marinette says.

“Where would we sail to?”

“England isn’t too far,” Marinette answers, looking down the porthole and into the water. The waves look calm enough today that she can imagine that they’re out at sea.

“Or we could take a longer trip and try for America.” He suggests.

Marinette laughs, still looking out over the waves. “That’s so far.” She’s so absorbed in it, in the tranquility that seems to embody today that she’s slightly startled when he speaks next.

“I’d go anywhere with you,” his voice is barely a whisper, but she can still hear him clearly. Marinette turns away from the porthole to face him again. She’s startled to see that Adrien was so close behind her. She loses her footing again, tripping back and his hands catch her quickly by the waist to steady her. When she’s alright again, Adrien lets out a relieved sigh. His hand linger on her waist but then they reach for her hand and he gives it a light squeeze. He’s so close that she can feel his breath on her face and her eyes linger on his parted lips for a second before she gets lost in his green eyes. She had almost forgotten how beautiful they were. And in her dreams, they were always the wrong kind of green.

He reaches out with his free hand and brushes her hair from her face, his fingers trailing down her cheek. Her eyes flutter closed at the sudden caress, but she forces herself to open them and _see him._ The anticipation is killing her, but all Adrien does is smile and she can feel her cheeks heating up. There’s something in his eyes that she can’t quite pin down. Hesitance? Fear? Before she can name it, he turns away and tugs at her hand, gesturing for her to follow.

The two of them move to the storage room, but all they find are empty crates and old life preservers. There was no treasure to be found here. Marinette’s mind is still stuck on the moment just a second ago, still stuck next to the porthole, but she comes to her senses. “We should go back up, Chloé might be getting worried.” Adrien nods and they find the staircase going up. It takes a bit of effort to open the door at the top, its hinges stuck and rusted, but Marinette is strong enough to break through. When they resurface, Marinette waves to Chloé again to let her know that they were okay.

“Hey Mari,” Adrien tugs her hand again and she follows. Marinette tries not to think about how naturally his hand fits against hers. He moves away from the stern and away from Chloé, towards the bow.

“What?” Marinette can’t help but smile at him. There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and his grin is a little too mischievous.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just do it,” his grin grows wider and Marinette giggles, obliging him. “Now follow me.” He takes her other hand too now, and with slow steps, he leads her forward. With her eyes closed, her other senses heighten. She’s super aware of the ocean breeze blowing through her hair, and of the way Adrien’s is squeezing her hands and guiding her forward. She notices a note of lightness in his voice that she hadn’t before. Marinette resists the urge to peek, and follows his guidance. “Now put your hand here.” His hand pulls hers forward until she feels cool metal against her fingertips. As she grabs onto the banister, she can feel Adrien moving behind her. “Step up onto the railing.”

She does as she’s told, and she feels his hands leaving hers. She feels him stepping up onto the railing too, and then she feels his hands settling around her waist. Her chest tightens. He’s so close, pressing against her back. She wants to lean against him, but it would throw them both off balance. So she simply revels, accepting the low pressure of his body against hers and deciding to indulge for the time being.

“Keep your eyes closed, okay?” He says, his voice being a mere murmur against her ear. She can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“I am!” She laughs, wrinkling her nose in his general direction.

She hears him chuckling in her ear and she can’t help but giggle as well. The warmth of his breath makes her blush. “Do you trust me?”

She could never not trust him. “Yeah,” Marinette replies.

Adrien’s hands leave her waist. He lifts her hands from the railing, and their fingers intertwine. His lips graze the shell of her ear as he whispers, “open your eyes.”

She does, and she sees the whole ocean before them. There’s no sight of the beach or sand, it’s just pure ocean ahead. It’s like they’re actually sailing. The wind blows and there’s an exhilarating instant when she believes that she could fall – but she knows he’ll catch her no matter what. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes out, “breathtaking.”

She can’t help but laugh. This boy is so utterly romantic and cheesy, but she loves him. With a gasp, she realizes it’s the first time she’s admitted it to herself. She loves him, and she has always loved him. She probably always will. The wind blows again, pushing against her, but Marinette can feel Adrien behind her, keeping them both balanced on the railing. He’s smiling, but his words fall short. “Just tell me, and I’ll stop.”

He rests his forehead on her shoulder, and for a second her smile falters. She brings her arms down, freeing a hand from him to hold onto the railing. “Adrien?” She softly questions him.

There’s a chuckle, but this time, it’s humorless. “I don’t even know where to start, Marinette.” He takes a shaky breath. “I’ve waited for this for so long, but if you don’t want to – if you don’t, then I won’t.”

Marinette’s heart clenches and she squeezes the railing so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“It’s been you this whole time. From the very beginning when you first reached out to me.” His voice is low, serious. It’s reverent like a prayer and it’s solely for her.

It seemed like another lifetime, but Marinette still remembers. “We were catching ladybugs, and then I saw them picking on you,” She says and laughs “And then you hit me.”

Adrien flounders for a second, his face red from guilt and embarrassment. “I apologized afterwards, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Marinette is careful and spins herself around to face him. Adrien lifts his head from her shoulder in response, taking care not to let her fall. She’s still balanced on the railing, but now with her back to the ocean, she leans against the banister, fully facing him. she brings a hand up to his face. “That long ago?”

“Yeah,” he admits, a little sheepishly. He’s blushing, and Marinette can’t help but think that pink is a good colour on him.

“Adrien?”

“Hm?” His eyes are solely focused on her, hope shining brightly in them as he waits for her to speak.

“You know it’s been you this whole time too, right?” she wants to be sure, because he _must_ know this, right? But the way his eyes widen and the way his lips part tell her that he doesn’t. It’s ridiculous. She can’t help but laugh at him because it’s been so obvious, hasn’t it? “How can you be so oblivious?” she laughs.

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” he sulks, because he knows what it’s like to be disappointed. But he doesn’t dwell on that thought. Instead, he leans over her, bracing himself on the banister, and Marinette stops laughing. He has a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer and she slides her arms around his neck. Marinette’s breath catches because she knows what comes next. She’s waited for it for almost a decade and so has he. His forehead touches hers, but his eyes shine brighter than ever. Hers flutter closed almost without her permission, just surrendering to the sheer intimacy that he’s brought upon them and finally their lips meet.

Once, twice. Their lips are soft and timid against each other, as if this was a dream they would wake up from and they would have to return to their routine loneliness. But her other senses are on overdrive. His smell is fresh and clean and his lips taste sweet and salty from the ocean breeze that lingers on his lips and Marinette realizes that _this is real._

It’s the only thought that Marinette can register because the rest of her brain is preoccupied with keeping her upright. If it wasn’t for the hand behind her waist, she wasn’t sure she would be. She rests a hand on the back of his head, keeping him close, because even as he’s pressed tight against her, it’s not enough. It might never be enough. She plays with the longer strands of his hair, twirling the locks around her finger like she’d dreamed of doing so many times before.

He nips softly at her lips, and brings a hand up to tilt her chin up. His tongue runs along her bottom lip and her lips tingle as she parts for him. Their breaths mingle for a second, but they fall back into each other with such a devotion and gentleness that Marinette can’t contain herself. He’s everywhere at once, his hands cupping her face to keep them as joined as they could possibly be, his tongue stroking hers in a delicate and artful dance. He’s so sweet and this kiss is so slow and she relishes every touch. They had waited so long for this. They deserved to enjoy every moment of it..

He pulls away for air and breathes out a reverent “Mari.” as if still not believing that he had actually kissed her. She unconsciously leans in, following after him. He laughs and kisses her cheek, warm against his lips and he begins to trail a line of kisses along her jaw. His kisses follow the blush spreading across her cheeks “It’s always been you,” he repeats and then he kisses her lips again.

The words, the sheer sentiment of those words and just how intense he was makes her heart skip a beat. She shakes in his arm and clings to his shoulder, and leads her hands straight back into his hair. What once was a soft kiss turns deeper and more frenzied and even if he’s heartbreakingly careful with her, hesitating even in his growing passion to check if she’s okay, she responds by leaning up to him and licking his lip slowly.

Her hands slide down from his hair and she tugs at the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward and leaving him no space to pull back. Her tongue moves against his and he moans, and she can taste his breath on her tongue. She loves it and wants to taste more of it, so traces his lower lip again, enjoying the way their mouths slot together. The breeze picks up again, making her hair dance around them as one of his hands settle on the small of her back to pull her closer. Her hands slide around his neck again, pulling him almost impossibly close and he moans into her again, which draws a breathy sigh out of her. He pulls away for a second time, but instead of taking a breath, he kisses her throat, her collarbone, and the delicious spot between shoulder and neck.

His lips suck and nibble, tasting her, and they leave a trail of wet heat down her skin. Marinette’s knees go weak, and they part for a third time - Adrien catches her before she falls. Marinette gives a breathless giggle, bringing her hand up to brush the hair from her face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, but the smile on his face isn’t innocent enough, and Marinette realizes he did it on purpose. He’s _proud_ of himself for making her sigh and moan against him. Somehow, he knew just how to make her knees weak. He steps off the railing and lifts her down too. She wants to hit him, but he’s the only thing between her and collapsing on the ground. Marinette leans back against the railing, keeping a firm grip on it.

“You did that on purpose,” she accuses him, pouting at him. He laughs, but he doesn’t deny it.

Instead, Adrien grins, and leans his head back, shouting to the sky, “I’m the king of the world!”

Marinette laughs at him, mostly because she can’t believe how much of a dork he is, but also because it’s been a long time since she’s seen Adrien genuinely happy, and it’s been a long time since she’s felt genuine happiness herself.

The two of them stay like that for a while, arms wrapped around each other, almost deliriously happy in the knowledge that this was something they could do now. Marinette regained the strength in her legs, and this time, Adrien’s the one who comes to his senses first. “We should get back to Chloé,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He helps Marinette steady herself, and then he jumps off the ship. For a third time, he extends a hand to Marinette and helps her down. He doesn’t let go of her hand even when they’re both safely on the beach. They intertwine their fingers as they walk back.

Chloé looks away from the ocean and smiles at the two of them, her blue eyes flickering down to their joined hands. The couple takes their seats on the blanket, and the three of them take a moment to enjoy the company and the ocean air.

“We should get a picture of the three of us while we’re here,” Chloé says. Adrien and Marinette scoot closer to her and they take several pictures. The clouds had returned and blocked out the sun, but the pictures turned out nicely all the same.

There’s a bout of silence, where the three of them just sit and watch the rising ride. After a moment, Adrien says, “did you guys know that Francoise Dupont closed down?”

“No,” Chloé shakes her head.

“Rose told me about it,” Adrien says. “Apparently, the only schools left are like battery farms.”

Marinette nods. From her experience as a carer, she had seen many donors who had been treated badly. Many who didn’t even know what kindness was. It was appalling.

“That’s what made Francoise Dupont so special. They treated us like people,” Marinette laments.

Chloé snorts at the statement. “It’s not like they treat us like people out here.”

Too happy to let Chloé ruin his mood, Adrien brushes the statement off and turns to Marinette. “Mari, do you ever hear about the other Francoise students?”

“Sometimes. I saw Max in Toulouse.”

“Rose told me about Juleka and Alix. I heard that Kim completed on his first donation,” Adrien replied.

There’s a moment of silence, as they remember their former classmate.

“It happens more than they ever tell us,” Chloé scoffs.

“There was a guy at my carer center. He was always scared of completing on his first, but he just done his third, and he’s completely fine.” Adrien says.

Mari sighs. “Not many donors are so lucky.” She’s seen many sad stories during her time as a carer, and she’s not sure whether bringing them up now would do any good. It would ruin what had been a great day so far.

“It’s funny. I don't think I’d – I mean I know I wouldn’t have been a good carer,” Adrien laughs. “But I think I’m a pretty good donor.”

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?” Chloé asks, but it’s rhetorical. The question lingers in the air and neither Marinette nor Adrien say anything. Instead, Adrien glances down at their hands intertwined and rubs his thumb on the back on Marinette’s hand, offering her silent comfort. Chloé eyes flicker to their hands a second time, but neither of them pull away and she doesn’t look bothered by it at all. In fact, Chloé looks relieved.

After a bout of silence, Chloé says, “I wanted to have this trip because… Because I want the two of you to forgive me.”

“Why? For what?” Marinette asks. There’s an impending feeling of dread, and she remembers how much Alya pushed for Marinette to talk to Chloé.

“For what I said to you the last time we were here.” Chloé says.

It takes Adrien a moment to remember, but he shakes his head when he does. “It’s fine. You were angry and disappointed at your possible.”

“But it’s not just that.” Chloé looked over at Marinette. “Those things I said that night at the cottages, none of it was true. I was just jealous and scared, and…” whatever else Chloé was about to say died on her lips. She closed her mouth, took a breath and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Marinette also shakes her head. They were children, barely old enough to live on their own and they’d been thrust upon a world they didn’t understand. “Chloé –”

Chloé keeps talking. This is something she needs to say. “And I kept you two from each other,” She looked at their hands again as she cuts Marinette off. She glances up through her lashes, her eyes silently pleading for Marinette to drop the topic of that night. “It should have been you two together. I always knew that. But it wasn’t just because of the rumors about deferrals.” She pauses for a moment to take a breath.

Marinette and Adrien stare at her, and she looks away. Chloé’s never been good with  apologies, and  she’s bad at putting her feelings into words. But she looks determined to get her thoughts across, so she avoids their faces. It’s easier to not look them in the eyes. “It was because I was lonely. You two had something real and I didn't… I didn’t want to be the one that was left alone.”

Chloé was near tears now, and Marinette looked away from her. Certainly, the three of them had grown, matured, and changed, but they were still very close and very dear to each other. They understood Chloé. As much as Marinette had cried alone all those nights; as much she’d hated hearing them. If it hadn’t been Marinette, it would have been Chloé.

She took in Chloé’s words, and as happy as Marinette had been a moment ago on that ship, reality hits her. There’s so much lost time between her and Adrien. Marinette knew that she would never blame Chloé for any of it, but this relationship with Adrien would never last.

“It was the worst thing I’ve ever done, keeping you two apart,” Chloé says softly. She forces herself to look Adrien in the eyes as she says this. Even though she was the one who let him go in the end, she had been the one that held him back in the first place. They’d had all been scared. But Chloé had known he loved Marinette. “But I want to make it up to you two.”

“I don’t see how you can do that,” Adrien says, but his voice is soft and he doesn’t mean it condescendingly. How could she make up for so many lost years? How could she give them time that wasn’t theirs?

“I can, and I will, here,” Chloé says. She reaches into her pocket, rummaging for a scrap of paper. She pulls it out and hands it over to Marinette.

“What’s this?” she asks, unfolding the paper to read it’s contents.

“Headmaster Tikki and Monsieur Plagg’s address.”

Adrien looks away from the paper and up at Chloé. “How did you get this?”

“I spent a lot of time alone, by myself, thinking about what I’d done. I started to listen to people… to rumors. I’m certain they’re the ones you apply to for a deferral.”

The deferrals. The dream that every clone has had. “Chloé, it’s too late, way too late,” Marinette says. Her heart swells, but she won’t let herself get her hopes up. It’s too good to be true. After the day she’s had, Marinette has used up all the luck she has in her lifetime. She’s happy with the little memories she’s made today. She will treasure them when she gets her notice and it’s her turn to donate, but this was all she would get. Memories. “It’s stupid to even think about this,” Marinette adds, more so to convince herself and to kill off any budding hope she might have.

“Just go to them, Mari. I’m sure that’s the address, and I know they can help,” Chloé pleads. Adrien squeezes Marinette’s hand and she turns her head towards him. There’s a hopefulness in his eyes and Marinette’s heart hurts.

They have never been that lucky. Why would they be now?

* * *

 

The clouds in the sky gather and it starts to rain on their way back. A few drops hit the windshield sporadically, but soon it builds up into a steady fall and the road was soaked. The drive back was filled with just as many awkward silences as the drive up. However, this time it’s for different reason. Chloé had said all that she wanted to on the trip, and with the long day they’d just had, exhaustion took over and she easily fell asleep. Adrien and Marinette wanted to discuss what to do. The scrap of paper in her bag weighed on her mind, and Adrien’s staring was hard to ignore. But this wasn’t the place and time for this talk, and they both needed to process this new bit of information first.

With a sigh, Marinette thinks back to the moment on the boat. It had only been a few hours, but it already felt like another lifetime. It was pure unadulterated happiness. Short lived and all, and Marinette hates herself for letting her guard down and getting her hopes up.

_But what if?_

They reach Arras first, and Rose is waiting at the front entrance to the hospital for Adrien. As Marinette parks the car and Adrien puts on his coat, Rose waves. She looks like she’s about to come up to them when an attendant calls her into the hospital. Adrien steps out of the car, opening his umbrella, and Marinette gets out too. He shields her from the rain as they walk towards the hospital entrance.

“You’ll come visit me again, won’t you?” Adrien asks. When they get under the canopy, he leans in, pressing their foreheads together. The patter of rain and each other’s breaths are all that they can hear, and it feels like they’re back in the ship again; it feels like they’re the only ones left in the world. There’s an intimacy here that Marinette knows she won’t find anywhere else.

She swallows hard and nods her head. “Yeah.”

“And we’ll talk about this, right?” Adrien’s voice gets quieter, and it breaks Marinette’s heart a little that he’s so hesitant about everything, especially when it comes to her. She wonders if Adrien will ever be sure of himself – and then she realizes it’s hypocritical of her.

She pushes the thoughts from her mind, and swallows. “Of course.”

“Because there’s so much I want to show you,” Adrien says. “But next time,” he adds after a pause. Marinette blinks up at him. With Adrien, there’s always a next time. Always a promise of more.

“I’ll call Rose and arrange it.”

And as if on cue, Rose appears. She takes one look at the couple and their red faces and she laughs, but she doesn’t say anything. Marinette’s glad for Rose’s quiet brand of kindness, and she greets her. The two girls hug and exchange a few words, but it was getting late, and Marinette needed to get Chloé back to Paris. So they say quick goodbyes, and Rose smiles.

“I’m going to give you two a moment,” Rose says, and slips back into the hospital, leaving Adrien alone with Marinette again.

“She hasn’t changed at all,” Marinette says. There had been a playful glint on Rose’s bright blue eyes. It had probably taken Rose less than a second to understand what was happening.

Adrien agrees, and then lifts a hand to cup Marinette’s cheek. “You haven’t either,” he says. His leans in for a kiss, and Marinette leans into him. He brushes his lips against hers once more and then pulls away because there’s not enough time for more.

Marinette realizes there will never be enough time.

“Visit soon,” he says and then presses the umbrella handle to her hand. Marinette takes it and walks back to the car, glancing over her shoulder once to see him still there. Adrien watches her, and he doesn’t go into the hospital until Marinette’s started the car and driven out of sight.

She tries not to watch his figure on the rearview mirror.

* * *

 

Alya pulls Marinette close and hugs her tightly. She’s tearing up, but Alya couldn’t be happier for her friend. “Finally!” she cries. “I knew this trip was a good idea, and you didn’t believe me. I have to admit though, I didn’t expect this to happen.”

Marinette hugs her friend back, and smiles sheepishly. She had just told Alya about the moment on the boat – the confession, the kiss – but she hadn’t brought up what Chloé had said yet. When they pull away from each other, Marinette peels another orange and separates the segments for Alya. “There’s more,” she says, and braces herself for Alya’s reaction.

Alya raises an eyebrow, the grin still on her lips. “What else happened? Did he propose to you?”

Marinette tuts her friend. As if marriage was a thing that was possible for clones. But then her tone turns serious. “Chloé told you her whole side of the story, right?” She places the oranges on a plate and hands it to Alya.

Alya takes the plate and pops an orange segment into her mouth. “Yeah.”

“So did you know about the deferrals too?” Marinette didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but her voice was sharper than she intended.

The smile on Alya’s face falters at the tone of Marinette’s voice. “Yes, but what’s the proble–”

“I don’t think Adrien and I should apply.”

“What? Why not?!” Alya’s aghast. As far as Alya knows, Marinette and Adrien are the perfect couple to apply for a deferral.  “Are you crazy, Mari?”

Marinette shakes her head. “There’s no point in getting our hopes up. We should just take what we can get. Rose told me that Adrien’s being transferred to Paris next month for a surgery, and she can come with him, or she can arrange for him to change carers. And Adrien’s doing well. He’s sure to survive his next donation. We’ll have time. We can be happy with what we have.”

Alya blinked at Marinette, unable to process what her best friend was saying. “But what’s the harm in getting a deferral? You two can have time together, sure, but you two could be _happy._ Really, truly _happy_. Have you talked to him about this? Adrien couldn’t possibly agree with you.”

Marinette frowns at that. “He’ll understand when I talk to him about it.”

“You haven’t even talked to him about it yet,” Alya shook her head at her friend. “He won’t understand. You’re going to break his heart if you tell him this.”

Marinette bit her lower lip. She had been thinking about whole thing all night, and she had gone through all the scenarios. There was a slim chance for the deferrals, and this was the best option. Why couldn’t Alya understand that it was the logical thing to do?

Alya reached out and took Marinette’s hand. Something on Marinette’s face must have betrayed her thoughts, because Alya’s tone softens, “oh Marinette. You’ve been sad for so long. Why are you keeping yourself from happiness?” She tugs on Marinette’s hand and Marinette sighs. She moves to sit on Alya’s bedside instead of in the chair. Now it was Marinette’s turn to tear up.

“Alya, the last time I got my hopes up, it was too late,” she says in a whisper. “We were at the cottages, and Adrien told me that it wouldn’t work if he applied to the deferrals with Chloé because he was really, truly in love with _me_. But you know what? That didn’t matter because I was leaving. I got in a truck the next morning and I left. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.” Try as she may, Marinette can’t help but cry now, and Alya squeezes her hand. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t want to be hurt again.”

Alya hugs Marinette for a second time but tighter. She lets Marinette cry on her shoulder, and Marinette hates feeling like this. She hates compromising, but she knows that this is as good as it will get, so she has to settle. It feels like she’s not allowed to be happy, like every single glimmer of hope that shines in her life, something gets in the way. With Alya there supporting her, she almost believes that it could all work out, but she’s too scared to hope. Marinette sobs, and Alya pats her on the back. She manages a weak chuckle because, despite her status as the carer here, Alya seemed to be the one taking care of her.

“Marinette, if you don’t try, you’ll never get what you want. Just _try_ . Apply for a deferral. Even if you’re refused, at least you won’t look back on this and regret it. You won’t think _what if_ or _if only_.”

“But, Alya…” Marinette sniffles. She pulls away from the hug and wipes at her teary eyes.

Alya doesn’t let her continue. Marinette would just try to talk herself out of it again.“Shhh, no. Stop doubting yourself Marinette.” Alya squeezes Marinette’s hand again. “I know you. I was with you the whole time at Francoise Dupont and I saw how you looked at Adrien. You didn’t let yourself believe for over half a decade, and you were both miserable because of it. This is a chance to make it up. Chloé’s right.”

Marinette lets out a defeated sigh. She didn’t agree, but she couldn’t argue anymore, and somewhere in the back of Marinette’s mind, she knew that Alya was always right. “I’ll talk to Adrien about it,” she says quietly.

“He’ll convince you,” Alya smiles. “Trust me on this, you two should apply.”

* * *

 

Marinette resumed her schedule. She visited new bakeries every day and she completed her duties as a carer. But she planned to take a day off every week to drive up to Arras and visit Adrien. So it was the first weekend after the trip to Calais when Marinette went to visit him. On the way there, she went over the things that she would say to Adrien in her head. She even rehearsed her lines, picking her words carefully. She went as far as to anticipate his reactions so that she would be prepared for anything.

She wasn’t prepared though.

Rose greeted her at the hospital entrance, and before Marinette went up to visit Adrien, the two girls went to one of the general waiting rooms and took a moment to catch up.

“Sorry about last time. The nurses were anxious about having Adrien out without me so I had to do a lot of placating. I didn’t get a chance to say a proper hello… so, hello!” Rose said, her voice as cheerful as ever.

“That’s okay. Actually, thank you for everything. You made that entire trip possible, and you were a great help,” Marinette smiled. She reached in her bag and pulled out a box of cookies. “As thanks,” Marinette added, and handed Rose the treats.

“Oh these are lovely. Thank you!” Rose returned the smile and put the cookies away. “So tell me about the trip.”

But Marinette knew what Rose really wanted to know. Bless the girl, she was too polite to ask. “It was fun, we went back to the town near the cottages.”

“Adrien told me about that.” And it’s also not what Rose wants to know.  

“We just enjoyed our time on the beach, the three of us. Chloé took a lot of pictures. I’d show them to you, but I haven’t had time to go develop them, so not even Alya’s seen them yet.” Marinette danced around the question and grinned, teasing Rose. Bless her for being so nice. “I guess you know by now too that Adrien and I are a couple.”

The smile on Rose’s face only grew. “Yes! Adrien couldn’t stop smiling when he came back. He couldn’t stop talking about all the possibilities… he told me about the chance at a deferral,” Rose gushed. Hearing about Adrien made Marinette’s heart swell with love, but also brought an aching to her chest. Alya had been right. He wanted the deferral. A difficult conversation would be ahead of her. Having finally heard Marinette confirm she and Adrien were a couple, Rose grabbed her bag. “Anyway, I won’t keep you from Adrien any longer. He’s on the second floor. Fifth room on the right.”

“Thanks Rose, seriously. You’ve done so much for us.”

“It’s what friends are for,” Rose smiled, and left.

Marinette picked up her bag and followed Rose’s instructions to Adrien’s room. Before she knocked on the door, she took a moment to prepare herself. She went over the things she had said to herself in the car, and replayed the possible scenarios she had thought up. Finally, with a deep breath, she knocked and opened the door.

She barely took a step inside. She was taken aback.

The whole room was filled with pictures. Sketches and paintings. There were watercolours,  acrylics, and even an oil painting, but most of them are sketches and coloured pencil. There was art hung up on the walls, and spread out on the floor. Marinette saw a myriad of red - a closer look would tell her that those pieces held ladybug motifs. The other pieces she recognized as scenes from their past - Francoise Dupont featured in more than one sketch, and Marinette swore that the oil painting hung up behind the bed was of the woods near the cottages. Staring at it, it felt as if she was taken back to that time. It felt as if she was about to take one of her long walks into the woods. Marinette shook herself out of it, and on her second look around the room, she saw the hundreds of portraits. There was a few of their classmates from Francoise Dupont, but more than that, there were at least five sketches of herself.

It seemed that the only surface that was clear of the paintings and sketches was the surface on which Adrien was sitting. He was staring at one of the sketches on the floor, and Marinette watched as he turned to look at one of the paintings behind him. It’s only when Marinette, surprised by all of this, took a step back that Adrien heard her and realized that he wasn’t alone.

“Oh,” he says, glancing up. His face reddens a little. “I didn’t know… I would have cleaned up beforehand. Hold on a second,” he says as he scrambles to stand up. He’s careful not to step or sit on any art. He leans over the bed, picking up drawings from the floor and clearing a path to the door.

When Adrien reaches the door, he’s holding a stack of drawings. Marinette takes it from his hands and helps him sort out a few more of the pictures before placing them on the table next to the bed and taking a seat in the chair. Adrien seats himself on the bed, face still red, and Marinette can’t help but admire the colour of his cheeks. The pink really does look good on him.

“I –”

“We –”

Both of them cut each other off and then fall into silence. Adrien gestures for Marinette to go first, but she realizes that she doesn’t know what to say. She hadn’t thought of this particular scenario on her drive up. She wasn’t prepared for this.        

“I thought we were going to talk about this first,” Marinette says, finally. Her tone is slow and measured, and she tries to gauge Adrien’s expression. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods.

“I wanted to narrow some of this down before I showed it all to you,” Adrien replied. Guilt creeps into Marinette’s conscience. Alya had been right. Adrien hadn’t even thought that not applying was an option here, and now she didn’t know how to broach the topic without hurting him. She looked him in the eyes and he looked completely and utterly vulnerable to her.

“Adrien, when did you start…” Marinette gestures around the room. “You hated art when we were little.”

“Around the time you left to be a carer. I got a sketchbook from Theo and I just… I couldn’t stop drawing. You remember my little theory, don’t you? About the gallery?”

Marinette nods in response and  Adrien looks through the stack of drawings on the table and pulls out a crumpled sheet. It looked like it had been torn from a sketchbook. “This is an older one,” he says, as he hands it to her.

It took Marinette’s breath away.

It was a simple pencil sketch, and it wasn’t very good. But Marinette knew immediately that it was her. Her eyes looked a little bit off, but Adrien had gotten the shape of her profile perfectly, and the blush blooming on her face mirrored the one he had shaded on her in the sketch. Freckles dotted her face, and loose strands of hair blowing in the wind.

Marinette looked up at Adrien, eyes watery. When she didn’t say anything, he rubbed a spot on the back of his neck, glancing down shyly. “That was my first attempt at drawing you.”

And this whole time, Marinette had thought about not applying. She wanted to cry. She looked around at all the art on the ground. There were pictures of ladybugs, and Marinette reached up to touch her earrings. She saw more portraits of her, and she was overcome with the sincerity of his feelings. How could she want to play it safe when he loved her this much? Her chest tightened. Seeing this, seeing his love for her so purely expressed overwhelmed her and intensified her own feelings. She would fight for him. She would fight _with him._ Marinette stood and placed the sketch on the bed next to him. She leaned in and hugged him tight. She never wanted to let him go again.

* * *

 

Marinette drove back to Paris the next day. It wasn’t that she couldn’t have driven back the day before – the drive was only an hour – but she wanted to have more time with Adrien. In the end, they two of them had sorted through some of Adrien’s art, and they fell asleep, curled up on his tiny hospital bed. The next morning, Marinette woke up early and kissed him goodbye. She stretched, because the bed had been cramped, but being next to Adrien had been well worth it.

And on her drive back to Paris, she stopped by the address that Chloé had given her. She parked across the street and sat in her car, looking at a row of houses before her. She was too far to see the address numbers, but this was it. One of these houses was where Headmaster Tikki and Monsieur Plagg lived.

She wasn’t sure what she would gain by coming here beforehand, but Marinette wanted to be sure that this was the right place. And as luck would have it, the door to one of the houses opened, and out stepped Monsieur Plagg.

He looked to be whistling to himself. He carried a trowel in one hand, and a bucket in the other. He walked down the steps of the porch and set to work on the small garden in the front lawn. He didn’t even notice Marinette’s car parked across the street.

That was all the confirmation Marinette needed, and she drove away.

* * *

 

One look at Marinette was enough for Alya to know. She grinned her trademark I-told-you-so grin and Marinette rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. Marinette set a box of macarons on the table next to Alya’s bedside and Alya’s grin grew wider.

“Damn it Alya, why do you always have to be right?” Marinette drops herself into a chair and Alya laughs.

“What did he say? How did he convince you?”

Marinette shook her head. “He didn’t say anything.” Alya shot her a questioning look and Marinette sighed. “He has this theory about the gallery. He told me about it when he told me that applying for a deferral with Chloé wouldn’t work.”

“What is it?” Alya prodded her on.

“We never found out what the gallery at the cottages was for, did we? Monsieur Plagg would come and take our art, but we never knew where it went or what it was for.”

Alya nodded and Marinette went on.

“Adrien thought that Francoise Dupont couples could apply for deferrals even if they weren’t truly in love. So they would need a way to tell that couples weren’t lying, right?”

“So then, the art...”

“The art would be a way for them to look into our souls. To tell if we were really truly in love. And it makes some sense, I suppose. They would have records of the art from throughout our childhood.”

Alya’s face fell, her expression becoming serious. “But Marinette, Adrien never submitted to the gallery though.”

A smile crept onto Marinette’s face. “He made up for it.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“He’s been drawing for as long as I’ve been a carer.” Marinette reached into her pocket and pulled out the torn sketch, handing it to Alya. “He says he drew that at the cottages. His first attempt at putting me on paper.”

Alya’s eyes widened a fraction, and a hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh… my god.”

“His entire room at the hospital is full of it. I’d say he has almost as much art as you have photos,” Marinette said. She was getting teary just thinking about it. Adrien’s room filled to the brim with his art… with his absolute love for her.

Alya handed the sketch back to Marinette, and she slipped it back into her pocket. “I couldn’t just… I couldn’t argue with him after that. I mean, what could I say to that?” Marinette exhaled, shaking her head. “He believes in _us._ It makes me want to too.” But then she looks down for a second, her voice growing quiet. “I’m still scared,” Marinette admits. “What if we don’t get it?”

“Oh honey,” Alya says, and pulls Marinette closer so that she can give her friend a hug. “We talked about this. If you don’t get it, at least you won’t have any regrets.” Alya didn’t say it, but with what she had just heard, how could they not get the deferral? They loved each other so much.

Marinette pulls away from the hug and nods, trying to remind herself of all the reasons to do this. It had been so easy when Adrien was there, and it was easier to believe with Alya supporting her. But she needed to remember her reasons and the people behind her lest her doubts start to creep in again.

“Trust me, Mari, this is the right decision.”

Marinette nods again, but she sits up suddenly, “I just realized. I haven’t talked to Chloé about this yet.”

“Go, girl, go!” Alya practically shoves Marinette off the bed, and Marinette’s surprised that Alya’s so strong.

Marinette laughs. “I must be an amazing carer, because your recovery is going amazingly well.”

“I told you, us donors are stronger than we look,” Alya grins.

“What about going outside? You’re long overdue for a walk.”

Alya waves her friend away. “Just come back later. We can walk in the afternoon.”

Marinette gathers her things and leaves for Chloé’s room. She’s surprised to find that Chloé’s been moved to another room: pre-op.

The room was smaller, and there were more medical machines. Chloé was restricted to her bed, and if she needed to leave for any reason at all, she needed to call a nurse, especially because she didn’t have a carer. Donors were not always moved to pre-op rooms. They were usually only for delicate and complex surgeries, or in Chloé’s case, because she needed assistance and the pre-op rooms were closer to the nurses.

Marinette flashed her carer ID at one of the nurses to be allowed into the room. It was weird, she didn’t often have to do so. Once she was there, she saw Chloé with a mask on her face, it aided her breathing and the various medical equipment beeped steadily. All of her vitals were being closely monitored.

“Chloé?” Marinette says, her voice barely louder than the beeping. Chloé’s eyes fluttered open and she looked over at Marinette. From under the mask, Marinette could see the edges of her lips curl into a smile.

“Hi Mari,” she replied. Chloé’s voice was quiet and weak. There was a breathiness to her words, and all of it was muffled by the mask.

Marinette puts her things down and walks over to the foot of the bed. “What happened?” she asks as she picks up the clipboard hung on the end of the bed. Marinette flips through the records of Chloé’s health, scanning for any doctor’s notes on abnormalities.

That’s when she sees it. Two days ago, a sudden decline. “I couldn’t breathe, and they didn’t want me to complete yet. So my donation’s been pushed up.”

Marinette’s eyes fall on the scar peeking out from Chloé’s robe. The one down the center of her chest. The damn lung donation. “When?” Marinette asks. There were machines for this! There were machines that could help her breath. Her donation shouldn’t have been moved up. For a second, Marinette is blind with rage, but as quickly as it comes, it leaves. She realizes that, without a carer, without someone who had the paperwork and could represent Chloé, she had no one to fight for her.  

“Next week,” Chloé’s mask fogs up as she speaks. “Thursday.”

Marinette nearly drops the clipboard, but she catches it in time and puts it back in its place. She walks over to the side and sits down, taking one of Chloé’s hands in hers. “I can talk to the doctors for you. Just give me a day and I can get the paperwork together. Having two donors is easy, I can do it.”

But Chloé shakes her head. “I don’t… want a carer, Mari.”

“Why not?”

But Chloé didn’t answer. Her thumb gently rubbed circles on the back of Marinette’s hand, and she stared at their hands, smiling. She closed her eyes for a second, letting out a contented sigh. “You forgive me, right?”

Marinette nodded, swallowing hard. “You’ll make it through this. You’re going to make it through this.”

Chloé smiles again, electing to ignore Marinette’s words again. Instead, she turns her head to look Marinette in the eyes. “Why are you here, Mari?”

 _Because you’re my friend. Because I’m going to be here for you._ “Adrien and I talked about it. We’re going to go see Headmaster Tikki and Monsieur Plagg.”

Chloé’s smile grows the tiniest bit wider, “I’m glad.” She gives Marinette’s hand a weak squeeze.

“You have to see it to believe it, Chloé. Adrien has so much art, he’s drawn so much in these last few years. He said it was to make up for all the times he didn’t draw at Francoise Dupont… I’m scared, but I think we might actually…” the words tumbled out of her mouth before she even realized she was saying it. “We might actually get it. The deferral.”

Putting it into words made it seem a little more real. Like this was really happening, and that there really was a chance. But Marinette didn’t continue that train of thought. Right now, there were other things more pressing.

“But you can’t complete yet, Chloé, you can’t.” Marinette’s eyes started to water. She placed her other hand on top of Chloé’s now.

“Oh, Mari.”                                                                    

“I’m going to be here for you, and I’ll be here after your donation, too.”

Chloé gives a small nod to that, and Marinette rests her forehead on their hands.

“Just make it through this, please.”

“Okay Mari, just…” Chloé pauses for a breath, “stay with me for a bit.”

Marinette nods. She’ll send a nurse to tell Alya that she wouldn’t be coming back that day. For now, she just squeezes Chloé’s hand tighter.

* * *

 

It had been a long week. Marinette spent less time visiting new bakeries and more time at the hospital, splitting her time between Alya and Chloé. She filled Alya in on Chloé’s condition, and they tried to get clearance to bring Alya into the pre-op room, but she wasn’t allowed. The closest Alya got was sitting outside the room, looking in on Chloé through the window. They’d wave to each other through the glass and pass messages to each other through Marinette. But there was only so much Marinette could do, and so much Chloé could say with her mask on.

Finally, it was the weekend, and Marinette considered calling Adrien and Rose to tell them that she wouldn’t be visiting. But Alya urged her to go, promising that Chloé would still be here – her donation was still a few days away. Marinette agreed, and decided she would go to Arras and be back in the same day. She wouldn’t spend the night like last time.

When Marinette arrived, she told Adrien about Chloé’s condition.

“Shit, Mari. You didn’t have to come. I would have understood if you wanted to stay in Paris.”

But Marinette shook her head. “I need to finalize some papers with Rose for your transfer and we have a lot of art to sort through anyway.” Marinette took a quick glance around the room. It looked like there were more sketches and paintings than the last time she was here. “You could start a gallery of your own, Adrien.”

With that, they two of them sorted and debated on which pieces of art to take and which ones to leave behind.

“No, Adrien, what are you doing? I like those ones.”

“I thought this was the reject pile.”

Marinette shook her head. “First of all, all of these are really good. None of them are _rejects_. Second of all, I like those and it’s the maybe-pile. We need to sort through them again. Give them a second look over.”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “We don’t have a lot of time to look at things over and over again, Marinette.” Marinette giggled for a second. “What?” Adrien asked, taken aback, “what’s so funny?”

“It’s just…at the cottages. You told me to take my time looking at porn, but here, you’re telling me to speed through high art.”

“You think my art is high art?” Adrien smiles.

Marinette playfully punches his arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Anyway, I know now that you weren’t really looking for pleasure.” Adrien says after a moment. He puts the stack of sketches back down. “I realized what you were doing after we went to Calais and found out it wasn’t Chloé’s possible. When she was yelling at us on the beach.”

“Oh?” Marinette looked up from the painting she was holding. It was one of the older pieces. A simple painting of a ladybug. “What do you think I was doing then? “Looking for your possible.” Adrien said. He smiled to himself, remembering something. “Chloé had thought you were trying to seduce me in some weird way by giving me the porn magazines, but then she said how we’re cloned from trash, and that’s where you found the magazines, wasn’t it? In the trash.”

Marinette nodded, strangely embarrassed that she had been found out. She hadn’t even told Adrien about her current search for her original. They had just found each other again, and already, so much had been going on that it felt like there was never any time to talk. Never any time to just sit and catch up with each other. “I’m looking for her, still. My original that is.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn’t look surprised. “Well? Any leads?”

“Well, she’s not a porn star,” Marinette laughed. Adrien laughed too. “It was more than just finding those magazines in the trash.” She admitted after a moment. “I used to… I wanted to kiss you so badly, and then I would hear you and Chloé in the next room… it drove me crazy.”

“Sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. Adrien looked down, guilt on his face. “But the kissing thing, that's normal. You know that, right?”

“But Alyx used to say how gross it was to kiss people and I thought I was just weird.” Marinette blushed. She didn’t think she would ever admit any of this out loud, and especially not to Adrien. “I thought those feelings would… I don’t know. Give me some kind of clue about who my original was.”

Adrien shook his head. “You weren’t being weird. Urges or no urges. It’s normal either way.” He walked over and hugged her. When he pulled away, he looked down and took the ladybug painting she was holding from her hands. “We’re taking this one, by the way,” and he places it on the sparse pile of accepted art. “So she’s not a porn star. Do you know anything else about her?”

“I found out she works in a bakery, but I haven’t tracked her down yet.” Marinette says.

“Do you know anything else about her?” Adrien asked. Marinette shook her head. “We’ll I’m sure you’ll find her, one of these days.” He kissed the side of her head, and then the two of them resumed sorting. Sometime in the mid-afternoon, Rose dropped by, and Marinette took a break from the art to sign off on forms and read through papers.

The two girls walked out into the hall and sat on a bench, leaving Adrien alone with his art.

“So this is the last of it,” Rose said. “I’ll submit it tonight and then if all goes well, Adrien will move in sometime next week. Wednesday or Thursday, I’d think.”

“That fast?” Marinette asked, raising her eyebrows. “Does Adrien know?”

Rose nodded. “I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to convince the doctors to make his transfer happen sooner.”

Marinette glanced back at Adrien’s room. The door was ajar and she could see him flipping through the pages of a sketchbook. He was doing so much for the two of them and it warmed her heart. Rose giggled and Marinette snapped out of it. “What?”

“You’re smiling,” Rose said, and Marinette laughed at herself when she realised Rose was right. And then a thought struck her.

“Rose, do you know where you’re going after Adrien comes to Paris?”

The giggling stopped, and Rose smiled. “Yeah, you know how we Francoise Dupont students are special?” Marinette nodded and gestured for Rose to continue. “I got to choose my next donor from a list. I’m going to Chambéry.”

“Who’s in Chambéry?”

Rose’s smiled widened. “Nino!”

Marinette, too, smiled again, and found herself repeating her question, “Does Adrien know about _that?_ ”

Rose nodded again. “I’m taking some things to Nino for him. Apparently, Nino had sent his headset and music player to Adrien before he went to a hospital, so I’m going to bring them back to Nino.” Rose giggled. “I’m excited to see him again.”

Marinette chuckled. “Rose, you’re so nice.”

“What, really? I just like helping people.”

“Yes, but Rose, you’ve done so much for both Adrien and I, and I just know you’re going to be the best carer for Nino.”

“I hope so. I can’t wait to see him again,” Rose giggled again. With that, she gathered up the last of the forms.

Marinette stood, and grinned. “I can’t thank you enough.” There were no words to explain the gratitude Marinette felt. For letting Adrien go on that trip. For finally pushing them into the path they should have taken all along.

“You don’t have to, but those cookies were delicious.”

Marinette laughed as they returned to the room.The three of them organized the art, and then Marinette said goodbye to the two of them, and she drove back to Paris.

* * *

 

It was early evening by the time Marinette was back in Paris, and though she had told Alya that she would take the day off to see Adrien, she couldn’t help but go back to the hospital. She was worried about Chloé. So she bought a small meal at a diner and then went to the hospital.

As per usual, Marinette parked her car and entered through the side entrance, but the moment she stepped through the door, a nurse saw her and called for her to follow.

“We didn’t know if you were coming in today, but if you hurry, you might still catch her,” the nurse said. She had a tense expression and for a second, the worst possible scenario came to Marinette’s mind.

“Is it Chloé? Is she okay? What’s going on?” Marinette started rattling off the questions in her head, desperate to know what was going on. But the direction that the nurse was leading her was wrong. This wasn’t the way to the pre-op room.

For a second, there was a confused look on the nurse’s face as she brought Marinette to the front entrance of the hospital. “Chloé? No, she’s fine. Her operation is still this week.”

That was a small relief, but it explained nothing. “Then what’s going on?” Marinette asked, but kept pace with the nurse. “Is it Alya?” But there hadn’t been anything wrong with Alya yesterday. Her recovery had been going well. It _couldn’t_ be Alya!

“No, Alya is fine too.”

“What is it then?” They had reached the front desk just as the entrance doors opened. A woman was stepping out, leaving the hospital. Marinette’s eyes fell on her as the receptionist and the nurse both called after her.

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng!”

Marinette forgot to breath. She remembers that name from her childhood...

But the woman who stood before her was much too young to be the same Madame Dupain-Cheng. She turned at the sound of being called, and when she saw Marinette, her expression mirrored Marinette’s. Both of them looked taken aback. Surprise wasn’t a strong enough word to encapsulate their feelings or their expressions - and it felt _wrong_ to be looking at someone so uncanny.

The other woman recovered much faster than Marinette had. She smiled and walked over to Marinette. When she was an arm’s length away, Marinette still had not recovered, but she extended a hand.

“Hi, Marinette. My name’s Bridgette. I’ve been looking for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and screaming are welcome c:


	6. The Donation Room, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some answers are given, a funeral happens, and Marinette and Adrien apply for a deferral.
> 
> WARNING: Although it's not described in detail there is a character death this chapter. One moment the character is there and the next they are not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, this chapter didn't cover everything I wanted to. It was getting too long so I cut it, but anyway. Once again, thanks to runningoutofink (tumblr) for helping me out again c:

Marinette never made it to see Chloé. After the initial shock, of… of seeing this girl who looked so much like her, Marinette reached out and shook Bridgette’s hand. They stared at each other for a moment, handshake over, their hands still together. It registered in the back of Marinette’s mind that Bridgette was one of the only people she knew who didn’t flinch at the sight or touch of a clone but she wasn’t able to articulate anything at this point.

Neither of them said anything, but they were both acutely aware that they needed to talk. With a questioning tilt of the head from Bridgette, and a silent nod from Marinette, their hands broke apart and the two women stepped out of the hospital together.

Bridgette led Marinette to her car, and she climbed into the passenger seat. Neither of them spoke, as Bridgette brought them to a tiny cafe tucked into the corner of a plaza. Marinette was too dazed, her mind was a flurry of half-finished thoughts, but she drew blanks whenever she tried to think of something to say. Mostly, Marinette would open her mouth to say something, but the words would die there, and her mouth would hang open for a moment before she closed it. Bridgette mostly kept her eyes on the road. The one time that Marinette managed to form the beginnings of a sentence, Bridgette reached out and put her hand over Marinette’s, “there will be time for that in a second.”

Time, time, time. Always time for things later for the originals, but Marinette knew better. SHe was a clone. Time was a luxury for people like her. Marinette glanced into the rearview mirror, subtly taking looks as Bridgette. They looked so alike, but they were so different.

Bridgette parked the car, and the two of them got out. Marinette glanced up at the cafe. She hadn’t been to this one before. “Is this where you work?” she asked. Bridgette gave her a questioning look, and shook her head.

“No, this is just… I just thought we’d want somewhere quiet to talk,” Bridgette replied, confused.

Marinette nodded, hesitated for a second, and then followed Bridgette inside. They ordered their drinks and sat. The two of them received a few questioning looks from the staff, but they ducked into a secluded corner next to the window and turned away from the other people in the cafe. Bridgette took a minute to get her thoughts together and Marinette was still reeling from the shock of it all. The silence was long and awkward, and Marinette glanced at the window, watching Bridgette’s reflection rather than Bridgette herself. She didn’t want to be caught staring.

Funnily enough, Marinette caught Bridgette staring at her. Their eyes met for a second when Marinette took a sip of her drink, and Bridgette blushed with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I – you just… we really look alike, don’t we?” Bridgette flustered. “I’m sorry, I’m the one who called you out. I should start.” She took a deep breath and smiled, the gesture shy and unsure. “I kind of brace myself whenever I go to a hospital, looking for you. Just in case I actually happened to find you. I did that today, too, but it’s just…”

“This isn’t really something we can prepare for, is it?” Marinette finished. It hit her that Bridgette had been leading her own search for Marinette, and it was so strange. Marinette had been looking for her original for so long, and when they finally meet, it’s because Bridgette _found her._ And then a second thought struck Marinette. How strange was it that both of them had been looking for each other all this time?

“No, it isn’t,” Bridgette agreed. She took a sip of her coffee and leaned back in her seat. “This is kind of crazy. I’m not just your possible, I’m your original.”

Marinette nodded. There was something eerie about hearing her own voice – but that wasn’t quite right. There was a lilt to Bridgette’s French that screamed Parisian, while Marinette’s was more neutral, having travelled all over the country. Now that she had caught Bridgette staring, Marinette hazarded a direct look at Bridgette too.

Bridgette’s hair was much longer than Marinette’s, but there were other differences too. Her face wasn’t as round, she was taller, even when sitting. The slope of her nose and the curve of her chin were not as soft as Marinette’s While Bridgette’s face was, by no means, harsh or severe, her features were sharper than Marinette’s. She had less freckles on her face, too. Marinette blinked, and looked away, embarrassed of her staring, even if she hadn’t been caught.

For a moment, she wondered if Bridgette really was her original or if she had just followed a complete stranger. Certainly, they looked alike, but weren’t there too many differences in their features for Bridgette to be her _original?_ Had the other girl been wrong? Maybe Bridgette really was just a possible.

Something on Marinette’s face must have given her thoughts away because Bridgette chuckled and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Well, I mean, you’re definitely my clone,” Bridgette repeated. “I know that for a fact.”

“How?” Marinette asked, curious. How could she be so certain? But even as the question left Marinette’s lips, she realized the answer. Bridgette merely verbalized it, confirming her thought.

“My _maman_ is Sabine Dupain Cheng. You know her, right?”

Marinette nodded, feeling her chest tightening as she listened. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together, though Marinette was not quite sure how it all fit together yet.

“But to be honest, I really shouldn’t say that I’m your original, because I’m not,” Bridgette continued. She laughed to herself for a second. “This is all really… it’s a lot of take in, and I don’t know how to tell you.” She threw an apologetic smile in Marinette’s direction. “I only found out everything recently. I didn’t know you existed a few months ago.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “Well then, why don’t you start there?” she urged her. Bridgette nodded.

“ _Maman_ , I mean, Sabine told me, of course.”

“But Madame Sabine’s known me for years,” Marinette made a face. She counted off the years in her head. “For almost a decade now. Why didn’t she tell you sooner?”

“I’m coming to that,” Bridgette nodded. “She’s known you for that long, but she’s known _about_ you for longer.” She looked down at the coffee in her hands, “ _Maman_ couldn’t have children. Well, she could, but she didn’t have a lot of viable eggs.” She took a sip and then leaned away from Marinette again. Bridgette looked out the window, a distant look coming to her eyes. “Papa – Tom and Sabine – both decided the best chance was to clone the embryo and implant the strongest one.”

More puzzle pieces came together, and Marinette’s mouth fell open. “You mean, neither of us is the original? There could be more of… us out there?”

“No. No, we were the only two who survived. I was implanted, and you were a surprise. But you’re right. Neither of us is the original.”

“But then, what happened? How did I end up at Francoise Dupont? How did Sabine end up there?”

“Part of the deal was that _maman_  provide an embryo for research,” Bridgette explained. I was implanted while... well, you know."

Marinette’s head was buzzing. She felt a weight on her chest.

This was insanity. “How did she find me then?” Marinette had never expected to find out her origins so completely - she never expected her life story to be explained to her and it was all coming together too fast for Marinette to make sense of it. She needed to stop and take a moment to process everything, but the questions kept tumbling out of her mouth. The half-finished thoughts that raced around in her head completed themselves and Marinette didn’t know how to stop asking about them. “Where was she for the years before? Why didn’t she say anything to me back then?”

Memories from her childhood sprung up, and Marinette tried to analyze all of them at once. Madame Sabine supervising the children as they played in the south field, Madame Sabine checking on her constantly when she had gotten sick… but the moment that stuck out the most in her memory was when Madame Sabine had told them all the truth of the donations. The weight on Marinette’s chest grew heavier, and her stomach churned.

“Why didn’t she tell me before?” Marinette restated her last question. Bridgette frowned and her eyebrows knitted together in worry.

“She hadn’t been told how many embryos survived. She went to look for you, but it look a long time. There are just so many places that...take clones in. I was still young, and more than Papa could handle on his own. It took years… and while she did find you, that meant she was absent from my life. All I can remember is her crying when she came back. Months and months of it, and I didn’t understand a thing.”

Madame Sabine was her _mother._ “I- I’m… Sorry, excuse me,” Marinette gasped out as she rushed out of her seat, straight towards the door marked as the bathroom. She barely had time to lock the door behind her before she bent over the toilet just in time to empty her stomach into the bowl. She dry heaved for what seemed like forever afterwards, tears streaming down her face, and when she was finished, she braced herself on the stall wall, trying to breathe.

Her head was buzzing, and the fuzziness of her thoughts made it all the more difficult to get a hold of herself. Marinette was vaguely aware that someone had come into the bathroom, and that they were knocking on her stall door, but she couldn’t bother to acknowledge it. There was too much shock, and too much for her to deal with in that moment. But the knocking was insistent. “Marinette? Are you okay in there?” it was Bridgette. Worry clear in her voice. Marinette groaned, and hoped that it was a sufficient answer.

“Marinette, let me in. I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot. I should have… I should’ve taken it slow.”

Marinette shook her head even though Bridgette couldn’t see her. She pushed herself out of the stall, and Bridgette caught her, putting an arm around her waist to steady Marinette and help her to the sink. Bridgette turned on the faucet and grabbed a handful of paper towels. Marinette cupped her hand and gather water to rinse out her mouth. She spit it out and Bridgette helped to dry her off. Marinette looked in the mirror, and she felt every bit like the mess she saw before her.

“Maybe we should… talk another day,” Bridgette said. She sounded unsure of what to do, and how to continue, and Marinette nodded. “How about I drive you back to your carer center?”

Marinette didn’t even think about her car back at the hospital. It just wasn’t even a thought in her mind. She simply nodded, and took a minute to splash water on her face. When she felt well enough, the two girls left the cafe, and Marinette gave Bridgette the address.

The rest of the evening was a blur, and so was the day after that. She didn’t remember Bridgette’s goodbye, or seeing her drive off. Marinette doesn’t even remember walking through her front door, or collapsing in her bed. All she remembers is Bridgette pressing a folded note into her hand when she dropped her off. A phone number and address in neat handwriting was printed below Bridgette’s name. “Call me when you feel like it. Any time. I’ll answer.”

* * *

 

Marinette took two days to recover. She called the hospital to ask the nurses of Alya’s progress, but otherwise had no contact with the outside world. The first day was spent in a state between consciousness and dreaming. It was unbelievable that she even met her original… _possible_ – whatever Bridgette was in relation to her. She wondered if this was all some crazy dream. It felt like one.

And that wasn’t too farfetched an idea, was it? Everything that had happened lately was just too incredible to be real. Seeing Adrien again. The reunion between the three of them, and their trip back to Calais. It was almost like a trip back in time, except, things were different. Adrien and Marinette loved each other, and they could express it. The moment on the ship seemed another lifetime ago, too distant to grasp and too amazing to be real. This could all very well be a fever dream. All this happiness could slip away from her at the drop of a hat, and Marinette felt sick all over again, her chest tightening at the thought that she had done it again; let get guard down only to get hurt.

But by the second day, Marinette’s mind had cleared up enough for her to get a hold of herself. She was sluggish and seemed to see everything through a haze, but she could tell what was real and what wasn’t. As difficult as life had been for her thus far, she was given the opportunity to be happy, finally, and she could take it or leave it. The realization brought a sense of lightness to her being. It felt like she had finally stopped holding her breath.

So on that second day, Marinette called Bridgette. She didn’t even think about what she would do if someone else – if Madame Sabine – answered the phone until she hit the call button. It was a relief that Bridgette stayed true to her word and answered.

“Hello?” she answered. It was like hearing herself. Marinette shivered. The uncanniness in their similarities would really take some getting used to.

“It’s Marinette.” There was a sharp intake of breath and then Marinette could hear Bridgette was fumbling with the phone on the other end.

“Give me a second,” Bridgette said. Marinette held the phone to her ear, taking deep breaths. She had already talked to Bridgette about a lot of this, what was she getting anxious about? Muffled shouting could be heard on the other end, and then silence. It was a second before Bridgette appeared again on the other end. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Marinette replied, carefully breathing in and exhaling. “Sorry about last time.”

“No! Not at all. That was all my fault. I walked into that hospital, prepared. You didn’t have a chance to prepare yourself. I caught you off guard.” She paused, before adding a sheepish, “sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette replied. “Actually, do you think we could go out again? There’s still a lot I want to talk about.”

“Yes, definitely. When are you free?”

Marinette glanced at her schedule. All her carefully written out plans and maps, detailing her search for her original, were laid out on the table, but useless now. _She’d found her._  “I need to go back to the hospital tomorrow, but I don’t have my car. Could you pick me up in the morning? We could talk and then you can drop me off.”

“That’s perfect,” Bridgette said, and they arranged the specifics. Marinette hung up soon after and threw herself back on her bed. She needed to spend another night gathering her strength before facing the world.

Bridgette was early the next morning when she came to pick Marinette up. Luckily, Marinette was early too, and Bridgette drove them to another cafe, a different one from the one they went to before. They both got coffees, and Marinette noted how similar their orders were, but how she liked a little more sugar in her coffee than Bridgette liked in hers. She tried to snap out of it, but it was hard not to register all the things they had in common and all the things they did differently.

The silence preceding their conversation was not as long this time, and Marinette was the first to speak.

“So,” Marinette said. She glanced at Bridgette and caught her staring, but this time, Bridgette didn’t look as embarrassed. “Tell me about Madame Sabine – your _maman_.”

“What would you like to know about her?”

Marinette shrugged. “What was she like with you?”

“Strict, but very kind. I had everything I could want and ever need, but she made sure I always did my homework and my chores – I uh, actually live in the bakery that she and Papa own.” Bridgette took a sip of her coffee.

“I know,” Marinette replies, before quickly adding. “Well, I know you work in a bakery.”

“You do?” her voice contained a hint of surprise.

It was Marinette’s turn to be sheepish as she admitted, “I’ve been looking for you too. Though, for a lot longer. A nurse told me that she’d seen a possible for me in Paris, working in a bakery.”

“You’ve been looking for me too?” Bridgette blinked. “Amazing. I mean…” she gestures between the two of them. “We’re really alike.”

“But I’m not your clone,” Marinette says. Despite everything, it wasn’t the same. Their case was out of the ordinary.“And you’re not my original.”

Bridgette shook her head. “No. But I’ve been thinking a lot, and _Maman_ and Papa had wanted a second child anyway… so aren’t you more like my long lost sister?” She smiles as she says this, but her voice is tentative.

“Sister?” Marinette repeats. The word takes her by surprise, but there’s a ring to it that she… likes.

Bridgette backtracked quickly, afraid she’d offended or made Marinette uncomfortable in anyway. “I don't mean anything bad by it, I just…”

“No, I get it. I like it. It’s fine.” Marinette gives her a comforting smile and takes a sip of her coffee. “Anyway, what happened when Madame Sabine found me? Did she tell you?”

“ _Maman_ hadn’t been sure about how many embryos survived at the time. She only found out later that you were the only one. But when she found you, she left home. I remember papa and _maman_ talking about it, and the day she left.”

“She came to be a guardian at Francoise Dupont.”

“Yes,” Bridgette nodded. “She told me about it all when she told me about you. How she had been briefed that she was strictly forbidden to tell the students anything.” Her voice grew quiet, “It killed her, not being able to say anything. She told me that it was hard to stay away from you and not give you any special treatment.”

“There was one time when I got sick, and she visited me every day. None of the other guardians did that.”

Bridgette smiled, “yeah, that sounds like her alright.”

“And she did eventually tell us about the donations. About everything.” And she’d been fired right after.

“She came home after that, yes. She cried a lot afterwards, like I told you. But I didn’t find out it was because she missed you, and that she knew what you were going to have to go through when you grew up until just this year.”

Marinette nodded. Somehow, she was coming to understand Madame Sabine better. “I’m curious,” Marinette said, “Does… does she know that you’ve found me?”

Bridgette shook her head. “I thought about telling her, but I don’t know yet.” She paused. “If I told her, would you… would you like to see her? Because I think she’d like to see you.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped open the slightest bit. She hadn’t thought of that- “I… well, I –”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to decide now. Just think about it and let me know,” Bridgette interrupted. She took another sip of her coffee. “Anyway, we should go to the hospital, shouldn’t we?”

Marinette nodded and then it hit her. “Shit!” she cursed. Bridgette’s eyebrows knitted together in worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Wednesday, right?” With everything that had happened, her grasp on time was a little bit… hazy.

Bridgette nodded.

“Adrien – he’s my new donor,” ‘ _and the love of my life_ ’ she thought but didn't verbalize. “He’s transferring to Paris today.”

“Then we really should get going.” The two girls stood, and took lids for their takeout cups. With Bridgette appearing so suddenly at the hospital a few days ago, Marinette had forgotten about everything else. They climbed into Bridgette’s car and started on their way, but another thought his Marinette and her stomach dropped.

“ _Chloé_ ,” she breathed out. Oh god, Chloé.

* * *

 

Marinette said her goodbye quickly before running into the hospital. The first thing she did upon stepping inside was to see if Adrien had arrived yet. She cursed again when she found that he had. She should have been there when he arrived, not just because she was his new carer and it was her job, but because she just… she should have.

She took the stairs again, once she found out which room was his. He was in the room across the hall from Alya, something that the hospital had arranged to make her visits and checks on donors easier. When she got up there though, Adrien wasn’t in the room. He was sitting with Alya, the two of them chatting. Both her donors looked up as Marinette walked into the room.

“Marinette!” Alya cried. She flipped back the covers on her bed and got to her feet. Adrien helped support her, and Marinette’s eyes went wide.

“Alya, just stay where you are,” Marinette replied. She dropped her stuff by a spare chair and lowered Alya back into bed. They both sat down on the edge of the bed, and Adrien took his seat back in the chair.

“Are you okay? I was just saying to Adrien that you’ve been gone for two days,” Alya asked.

Marinette’s eyes flickered between the two of them, “yeah, I’m fine. I just…” how could she tell them about Bridgette? She shook her head and pushed the thought away. Right now wasn’t the time for that particular talk. “I’ll tell you two later. Anyway,” Marinette looks to Adrien. “You made it.” she breathes out.

He grins at her, “Rose drove me down really early this morning. I wanted to surprise you.” Marinette smiles back and he moves to hug her. The feeling of his arms around her was comforting, and for the first time in three days, Marinette felt genuinely better.

“Where is Rose?”

Adrien leaned back and scratched a spot on the back of his neck, “she couldn’t stay. She has a long drive to Chambéry.” Then he added, “but her phone number is staying the same, and she left me the address of her new carer center. So we can keep in touch.”

“That’s good,” Alya said. “Who’s her new donor?”

“Nino,” Marinette and Adrien replied at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed. Alya took the chance to snap a picture of the two of them, and while Adrien blinked in surprise, Marinette swatted Alya on the arm.

“I’m still not deleting that shot. It was a good one,” Alya laughed.

Marinette rolled her eyes and then a thought hit her. “We should all go see Chloé. Her donation’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Alya nodded and Adrien’s eyes went wide. “It’s tomorrow?” he cried. His jaw dropped and he turned to Marinette. “You didn’t say it was this soon.”

“I’ve – just, a lot of things have been going on lately,” Marinette said. She bit her lower lip and Alya looked between the two of them.

“Let’s go. I’m sure Chloé would be happy to see all of us, even if only through a window.”

Marinette nodded, and helped Alya stand. She refused to take her wheelchair, but brought her walker at Marinette’s insistence. Adrien helped Alya to the elevator as Marinette led the way, and soon, the two donors stood outside of Chloé’s room while Marinette went inside to check on her. When she went inside, the first thing Marinette noticed was Chloé’s greyish pallor. The machines still beeped steadily, but the beeping was noticeably slower than her last visit.

“Chloé?” Marinette said softly. She reached out and stroked her arm. Chloé’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled.

“Mari, I was wondering when I’d see you again,” she said. Her voice was so weak, Marinette could barely hear her.

“Sorry, so many things came up. I tried to come, but there just wasn’t any time. But I’m here now, and look,” Marinette pointed to the window that looked out into the hallway. She left Chloé’s side for a moment to draw the curtains, revealing Alya and Adrien on the other side.

Chloé’s smile grew, and Marinette walked over, giving Chloé’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Adrien’s here?”

“Yeah, he arrived today.”

“Where’s Rose?” Chloé glanced up at Marinette. Her voice sounded raspy.

“She had to leave and go to her next donor.”

“Who is it? Her new donor.” Chloé asked, her blue eyes looked dull now, but there was a hint of curiosity there.

Marinette smiled, “It’s Nino.”

Chloé, with some effort, pushed herself up onto her elbows. For a second the beeping machines sped up, worrying Marinette for a second, but the machines steadied their beeping once again. “Wouldn’t it be nice,” she paused to take a breath, “if we could see everyone from Francoise Dupont again?”

“Like a reunion of sorts?”

“Yes, exactly.” Chloé looked through the glass and waved. Marinette looked over her shoulder to see Adrien and Alya smiling and waving back. Alya lifted her camera and snapped a picture of Chloé and Marinette together.

“That would be the best,” Marinette replied, turned back to Chloé. “I’ll call everyone. We’ll find some way to bring everyone to Paris and we’ll all be here after your donation tomorrow.”

Chloé laughed – or she tried to. It was difficult with the oxygen mask on her face, and with her health declining so rapidly. Marinette’s expression twisted with concern and she helped Chloé lean back down onto the bed. When she had settled down, she grinned sheepishly. “Thanks, Mari, but if you wouldn’t mind. I’d just like to see you after my donation.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“What about Adrien and Alya? Don't you want to see the two of them after?”

“No, that’s okay. Let them rest. Alya’s still recovering and Adrien must be tired from travelling.”

Marinette nodded. This was something she could promise. “Okay Chloé. I can do that.”

“One more thing?”

“What is it?”

“Can you stay with me a little longer right now?”

In Marinette’s mind, a checklist of things that she had to do appeared. She needed to go through paperwork with Adrien and finalize the transfer forms. She needed to help him unpack, and she needed to go over the hospital regulations with him. Then she needed to take Alya out for a walk, and perhaps feed her lunch, and if there was time, there was still a lot of Adrien’s art to go through and sort… “Of course I can,” she replied. She would get all of that done later. “Just give me a second, okay?”

Chloé nodded and Marinette left the room. She turned to Adrien and Alya and they both questioned her about Chloé’s condition.

“She’s gotten worse since the last time I saw her,” Marinette admitted. She glanced through the window and watched Chloé. The frail looking blonde was staring back at the three of them through the glass.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Adrien asked.

Marinette shook her head, and Alya elaborated. “She refused to have a carer, so no one really takes care of her except the nurses, and Marinette when she has time. And anyway, we’re both donors. We’re not even allowed into Chloé’s room.”

Adrien frowned, and Marinette nodded, backing up Alya’s answer.

“Actually, could you two go back upstairs on your own? Chloé wants me to stay with her a little longer. I don't think it will take long for her to fall asleep.” Marinette asked. “Adrien, you can help Alya, right?”

The two donors nodded, and walked away. Marinette watched them until they turned the corner. Then, she returned to Chloé’s room.

“I’m back,” Marinette said, sitting on the chair next to the bed. She took Chloé’s hand in hers and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Good, good,” Chloé replied. “How are those two?”

“Alya’s recovery is going well, and Adrien is as healthy as when we went to Calais together.”

“Have you two gone to see Headmaster Tikki and Monsieur Plagg yet?” Chloé asked after a moment. She glanced at Marinette, curious to know the answer.

Marinette shook her head, disappointed in herself that she had nothing to report to Chloé. “Not yet. Adrien’s just moved here. But we’ll be going soon. I even checked the address, and I saw Monsieur Plagg leaving the house. So all we have to do is pick out Adrien’s art and go.”

“That’s great. I’m so glad…” Chloé coughed, Marinette moved to press the call button. But Chloé shook her head and gestured for Marinette to sit again. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to the two of you,” she finished.

“You didn’t have to, you know.” Marinette gave her hand another squeeze. “We forgave you for everything.”

“That’s because you two are too nice for your own good.” Chloé smiled. Her mask fogged up. “And anyway, I needed to do this for my own peace of mind.”

Marinette smiled, and leaned down to kiss Chloé on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll make it through tomorrow.”

“I promise.”

“No completing yet.”  She’d just gotten Chloé back. She needed her to hang around a little longer.

“I won’t complete.”

“Good.”

* * *

 

The next day, Marinette was on edge. She visited Chloé in the pre-op room, and stayed with her for as long as she could, holding her hand. She rested her head on the side of Chloé’s bed and took her time looking at Chloé’s features. Blonde hair that had grown so long it reached the small of her back, but always kept in a tight ponytail. Chloé’s blue eyes which had lost some of its glimmer, and her lips now dry from the oxygen mask.

Chloé turned her head towards Marinette and blinked, her mask fogging up when she exhaled.

Marinette sat up and focused her attention. “Is there anything I can bring for you, Chloé? After your donation, I’ll bring you whatever you want.”

“Just be here for me, Mari. Just don't let go,” Chloé’s voice was more a breath. She was so weak, and Marinette was so helpless.

Marinette nodded, and settled down on the bed again. Despite her declining health, Chloé’s hand was still warm. God, she would always remember this warmth.

A short while later, the nurses entered the room and interrupted the moment. They turned the scanned the monitors and checked the machines. One of the nurses nodded to another and a dial was turned. Chloé’s eyes closed. Her mask fogged up, and her hand went limp.

“Excuse me, you have to leave now,” one of the nurses said firmly, turning to Marinette. She blinks back, confused.

“What?”

“You can’t be here anymore.”

“But I’m a carer!”

“Yes, but you are not _her_ carer,” the nurse said sharply, a ring of finality in her voice. Marinette was taken aback, and she bit her tongue. A million reasons for why should stay by Chloé’s side popped into her head, but none of them were sufficient to convince the nurse to let her stay.

“She’ll complete if I’m not with her,” Marinette said, her voice barely a whisper. The nurse gave her a hard look, and it struck Marinette that the nurse didn’t care. Chloé had already given more than most. Completing on the third was not unusual.

Rage boiled in the pit of Marinette’s stomach and she had to bite her tongue. She returned a fierce glare and refused to let go of Chloé’s hand. But the nurse looked over to her coworkers and, in the end, the three of them managed to pull the two girls apart. For all of Marinette’s stubbornness, for all her kicking and screaming, and the warmth from Chloé’s limp hand, she could not hold on.

They threw her out into the hall, and wheeled Chloé away to the donation room. One of the nurses gave Marinette a pitying glance, but did nothing else to help her. Marinette sat in the hallway for a long time, running over her last moment with Chloé in her head again and again, her hands rubbing over her face in frustration.

Chloé’s half lidded eyes. Chloé fighting to hold onto Marinette’s hand. The warmth she emitted. Her chapped lips. The condensation on the mask. Her hand slipping away.

She must have sat there all morning, because before she knew it, one of the nurses who had gone into the donation room with Chloé came out. Her mask was pulled down from her face and she smelled of disinfectant. Marinette recognized her immediately as the one who had taken pity on her. She opened her mouth to say something to the nurse, but no words came. The nurse gave her another look, but this time there was something more than just pity. The nurse shook her head, and walked away. That was all Marinette needed to know.

Alone again, Marinette refused to let herself cry. She bit back tears, but that did nothing to stop the spreading emptiness. Cold seeped into her and she couldn’t control the sob that wracked through her body. When she looked around at her surroundings, the deserted hall, and the murmurings of doctors and nurses in faraway rooms, everything seemed distant and surreal. The only thing Marinette was sure of was that she felt cold and hollow out there. As hollow as Chloé surely was.

* * *

 

When Marinette reached Adrien’s room, she forced a smile on her face and threw herself into their work. He eyed her worryingly but made no comment on the forced cheeriness. Instead, he helped her separate the art pieces into their piles and went over the pieces they liked and didn’t. Adrien was surprised by the vigor with which she worked, but he was careful not to get in Marinette’s way, and he kept watching for signs of her breaking. He knew today was Chloé’s donation, but he didn’t know what to make of Marinette’s behaviour.

After a few hours, Marinette sat back in her chair, going through the final pieces one last time. “Is there anything else?”

“No, this is good. If I go through all of it again, I’m going to reconsider this whole pile and we’ll never be done,” Adrien replied. “Besides, I have fond memories of each of these pieces. They’ll be good for the application.”

Marinette collected the other pieces of art from the floor around them and put them away. Adrien knelt and carefully piled up the pieces they had chosen and rolled them up, securing the collection with a rubber band. Then he left the collection on the table and sat on his bed, leaning back on the headboard and getting comfortable.

He watched Marinette closely as she tidied up the rest of the art, trying to gage her reaction now that they were done with their task. She seemed okay, and didn’t look any different from when they were deep in focus on judging his art. When she was finished putting the other pieces away, she took a seat next to him on the bed.

“I should go over paperwork with you right now so I can get that done, and then check on Alya. I still need to take her outside for some fresh air.”

“Hey, hey, just… Let’s just sit for a moment. Relax, okay?” Adrien said. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

Her posture is rigid, but eventually she surrenders to Adrien’s warmth. “But this is what I do, Adrien. I keep busy…” Marinette looked like she wanted to say more, but she stopped short.

Adrien frowned. “It’s okay to stop and feel things, Mari. You can be sad and worried about Chloé. You don’t have to try to push those feelings away.” He kissed the top of her head before leaning their foreheads together. “And I’ll be here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on.”

Since Marinette had left the pre-op room, she had been trying to distract herself from thinking about Chloé. She thought about Bridgette, and all the things that she had found out from her. She thought about how to broach the topic with Adrien and Alya. She wondered when would be a good time to tell them and what she would say. Still, her thoughts of Chloé kept creeping in.

Marinette held her breath, trying to keep everything contained. She didn’t know how to respond to this tenderness. It was strange. She was the carer, and so often the one who people relied upon, yet Adrien and Alya were both teaching her that she could be weak too, and that it was okay because there were people around her to support her. Marinette exhaled and shook herself from that line of thinking. After all, she was stubborn, and even with their support, she needed to be strong.

Instead of telling Adrien her thoughts, she kissed him on the cheek and said, “Thank you, Adrien. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” he smiled, relieved and trusting. But the respite was short lived. He blinked, and suddenly Marinette’s eyes were watering. His expression changed rapidly, eyebrows knit together in concern. “Mari, are you okay?”

Something in Adrien’s smile had broken through her armor. The tenderness, the utter compassion that shined through. The _love._ “Huh?” Marinette reached up to touch her cheek and found that her fingers came away wet with tears. She blinked at the tears on her fingers, and then looked up at Adrien, confused.

Before she realized it, she was crying, and the empty feeling she got when the nurses separated her from Chloé returned. “I should be used to this,” she says, more to herself than to Adrien. “I’m a carer, I’ve seen a million donations, and thousands of completions… but…”

“But this is different,” Adrien finishes for her. “This is _Chloé_.”

She nodded because she didn’t know what else to say. When she looked up at Adrien again, there were tears on his face. The hollow feeling lessened. He, too, had loved Chloé, and there was solace in missing her together.

* * *

 

Although Marinette knew she had to get on with her day, she went downstairs to the lobby to buy herself a coffee. She needed a moment before she went to see Alya. She sat in the lobby, watching the other nurses and doctors going about their day as if it was business as usual. And Marinette supposed that it _was_ , at least, for the rest of the world it was. A few other carers came in and out of the hospital, and they nodded their greetings at her but they all saw the look on her face and they just...  _knew._

When Marinette finished her coffee, she threw the cup out and walked up the stairs. Everything still felt surreal and distant and she had to keep a firm hand on the railing to steady herself. She tried to remember what it was like to have Adrien with her, the two of them comforting each other as they cried.

Marinette reached the third floor, and she held her breath... 

She was outside Chloé’s old room before she knew it. The door was open, and she could see the nurse from earlier. The one who had taken pity on her. She was cleaning up Chloé’s belongings, putting everything away into a box, much like Marinette did for her donors when they completed. She had just finished, and turned around when she saw Marinette standing by the door. She looked startled and nearly dropped the box, but caught herself just in time.

“Oh my,” she said, before setting the box back down. She gave Marinette a nervous smile. “You were close to her, weren’t you?”

Marinette nodded. She hesitated, but stepped into the room, stopping in front of the box set on the box between them. “May I?” she asked. Chloé might have not had a carer, but she deserved something. Marinette needed to be able to give her this.

The nurse looked down at the box and then back at Marinette. “Technically, I’m not allowed to. You’re not her carer,” she started, but when she saw Marinette’s downfallen face, she cleared her throat. “You can take one thing then, just, nothing too noticeable. I’m still responsible for all of this.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up, and she thanked the nurse before rummaging through the box. There was a pair of broken sunglasses that Marinette recognized from their days at Francoise Dupont, and a few other trinkets that Chloé had collected over the years. But what Marinette finally pulled out of the box was the yellow dress.

She folded the dress neatly and then thanked the nurse one last time before she left. She headed straight for Alya’s room, and when she got there, she saw that Alya, too had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, and one look was all it took for Marinette to run to her friend and hug her. The best friends held each other, and Marinette felt somewhat better, being the one comforting instead of comforting this time.

Eventually, Alya’s tears stopped and the crying died down to a few sniffles. Marinette placed a hand on Alya’s shoulder and spoke in a soft voice. “Do you still want to go outside today, Alya?”

Alya wiped at her eyes and hiccupped her answer, “I don’t th-think I can stand b-being inside right now,” she said. Marinette placed the yellow dress on the bed before helping Alya up.

“That was Chloé’s, wasn’t it?” Alya asked, and Marinette nodded. She brought a finger up to her lips, and Alya nodded back. “Right. Not a word.”

Marinette brought Alya’s walker over and they went out into the courtyard. They walked in silence, and stopped whenever Alya needed a break. Every now and then, they’d make a comment about the weather. There was something heavy weighing in on their hearts, and it it was hard to find the words to even begin to cover it. But on their fifth lap around the courtyard, Marinette finally brought up what was on her mind.

“Alya, about the yellow dress,” she started.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember back at Francoise Dupont, when we used to watch those movies every few weeks in the auditorium?” Marinette asked. Alya nodded. “There was that one movie when we saw someone dying, and we kept asking the guardians why the people buried them afterwards.”

“They explained to us what funerals were. Yes, I remember.”

“Well I… I do this thing for my donors. When I clean out their rooms, I take their things, and I bury them.”

Alya raised her eyebrow at that. She sniffled and wiped her nose before asking, “You mean you don’t incinerate their belongings?”

Marinette shook her head. “I can’t bring myself to. It felt… wrong. Like I was erasing the last traces of them from the world.”

There was a silence before Alya asked her next question. “Will you bury my things too?”

“Most likely, yes.” Marinette answered. “I couldn’t destroy your things.”

Alya seemed to consider what Marinette was saying, nodding to herself. She snapped out of it and turned to Marinette again, “so then, what about the yellow dress?”

“I want to bury it,” Marinette said. “I usually draw something or write something about the person because I want my memories of them to exist somewhere. So even if I forget them, they’ll be remembered somehow, you know? Like if someone ever finds these boxes, they’ll know that it belonged to someone, and they’ll know what that person was like. I usually do it alone because I don’t know anyone else who knows the donor, but here we have you, me, and Adrien. Would you… would you come with me this time?”

“Yes. Yes, I will.” Alya reached out and took Marinette’s hand. They stopped walking and Marinette turned to her best friend. “We’ll bury it together. Have a proper funeral like the humans do.”

They walked a few more laps, and then Marinette took Alya back up to her room. She retrieved the dress before dropping by Adrien’s room again. He was doodling in a new sketchbook when Marinette poked her head in.

“Hey Mari, are you okay?” he put the sketchbook down and tucked his pencil behind his ear, patting a spot on the bed in front of him. Marinette walked in, sitting on the bed before showing him the yellow dress. Adrien stared at it for a moment before he looked up at Marinette. “How did you get it?”

“There was a nurse who was nice enough to let me take something of Chloé’s to remember her by,” Marinette said. She took a deep breath before she explained to him her little ritual after her donors completed, telling him how she had discussed this with Alya. “We want to have a funeral for Chloé. Will you come?”

He gave Marinette a questioning look. “Do you really have to ask? Of course I will.”

At that, Marinette sighed with relief. “I don't know… I just. I’ve never done this with anyone before. It’s always just been me. I’d dig the hole and say goodbye to them myself.”

“It’s okay, Mari. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’ll be there for you, and Alya too.” He hugged her then, and Marinette was so glad to be surrounded by her friends. She left the hospital shortly after that, exhausted. She just wanted to get home and curl up on her bed. Today had been trying.

But in the end, when she was alone again, Marinette couldn’t get rid of the aching in her chest. Adrien and Alya were here for her this time, but she knew they wouldn’t always be.

* * *

 

The day started with coffee with Bridgette. The two girls had started to meet weekly to catch up and talk things over. Bridgette told her about her life, and Marinette told Bridgette about her duties as a carer, but also how Chloé had completed. She had found that Bridgette was a good confidant and listener. With everything that was going on lately, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

After breakfast, Marinette went to the hospital to pick up Adrien and Alya. Marinette had drawn a sketch of Chloé the night before and written out a description of her. It was the longest description she had ever written for a donor, and it went on tangents, detailing Marinette’s memories of Chloé. In the end, she placed everything in a box along with the yellow dress and put it in the trunk of her car.

When Marinette got to the hospital, she filled out a few forms. Since Adrien and Alya were both her donors, there was minimal paperwork to be done, and she drove them just outside of Campiègne.

When they arrived, they found a secluded field behind a thicket of trees. Adrien helped Alya along until they found a suitable location and Marinette carried the box and shovel. She dug the hole and Adrien put the box in it, but not before slipping in his own sketch of Chloé. Alya, too, had something to leave in the box – a photo of herself and Chloé taken before Marinette had arrived at the hospital.

Marinette filled the hole in, and Adrien and Alya looked to Marinette, waiting for her to guide them through this. Marinette leaned the shovel by a tree and bit her lip, unsure of how to go on. It was Adrien who finally broke the silence.

“I loved Chloé. I really did,” he said. “I hurt her a lot even though she was there for me when I needed her. She was the one who gave me the push I needed to go after the things I wanted… she understood me.” Adrien reached out and took Marinette’s hand. She squeezed his hand. Adrien gave a sad chuckle, “and in the end, she apologized to me when I was the one who should have said sorry.”

Marinette squeezed his hand tighter, and Alya patted him on the back. They three of them huddled together, finding comfort in each other’s company.

“We used to fight so much,” Alya said after a while. “One time, she didn’t forgive me until she lost her tokens and I found them again. But I never got to tell her the truth. I had gone to see Headmaster Tikki, and I asked her for more tokens so that Chloé could participate in the sale.” She paused for a moment, her voice shaky as she tried not to cry. “Headmaster gave them to me, but there still wasn’t enough. So I added my own tokens to the collection and gave them to Chloé. And when she forgave me, she bought me my first cam-camera,” Alya sobbed, and Marinette moved to her side. She hugged Alya and Adrien returned the comfort Alya had offered him.

Finally, it was Marinette’s turn, and she opened her mouth to speak. Her thoughts on their last moment together started to tumble out. Marinette talked about how warm Chloé’s hand was. She talked about how she had promised to be there for Chloé. Then her thoughts started to wander, and Marinette started talking about their time at the cottages. How she wished that she had made more of an effort to stay by Chloé’s side instead of letting them drift apart. There was so much Marinette wanted to say, and it came out all at once. She didn’t know how long she talked for but by the end of it, she was crying and her words became slurred. She couldn’t stop shaking and crying.

* * *

 

It was weeks later, but it still didn’t feel right.

As a carer, Marinette was so used to moving on from things quickly. A day or so of mourning and getting over loss was expected, but weeks was more time than what was allowed. Time wasn’t something they had, and her duties as a carer meant that she needed to get things done.

So despite the pain, Marinette carried out her duties. She visited Adrien and Alya and brought them things they wanted or needed. She helped with Alya’s recovery and prepared Adrien for his next donation. She talked to nurses and doctors and checked donations notices. And she continued her weekly meetings with Bridgette. The two of them often talked about how different their lives were, and how Marinette still needed time to decide on if she wanted to see Madame Sabine or not.

But Chloé’s completion still didn’t feel real. It was strange, and there was an emptiness that followed Marinette throughout her day. Even though Adrien and Alya didn’t mention it, they noticed the change in Marinette, because they also felt it. The three of them drifted through their days, trying to cope. When they were all together, it helped, but it was never enough.

Adrien sat on his bed, watching Marinette. She was sitting on the other end of the bed as she wrote notes on his progress for the doctor. He had been trying to draw, but since Chloé’s completion, he hadn’t been able to finish any of his pieces. He tucked the pencil behind his ear and put the sketchbook aside. “Marinette, when are we going to see Headmaster Tikki and Monsieur Plagg?”

She looked up from her work, startled, but quickly regain her composure. After everything, the deferral was the last thing on her mind. “What?”

“When are we going to go apply for the deferral, I mean,” he said. He watched her reaction carefully.

Marinette tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I… I don’t know. I’ve been busy with everything.”

“Can we make time? If we plan for next week, would that give you enough time to sort everything out?” he prodded. Something in Marinette’s voice gave away her uncertainty, and Adrien frowned. An unpleasant feeling started to form in his chest.

“I’m not sure Adrien, we’ll have to see.”

 _We’ll have to see._ That was Marinette’s standard answer for everything these days. It was what she said when she didn’t want to deal with something at that moment, and she usually never brought the matter up again in hopes that Adrien would forget about it. But he wasn’t going to let this go. The unpleasant feeling grew, and his mind started to run with the fear that maybe… maybe Marinette didn’t want him after all. He swallowed hard, and bit the inside of his cheek. “Mari, we have to go soon,” he said. “Waiting longer isn’t going to do us any good.”

With a sigh, Marinette set her work down. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that everything is ready, but we’re still not doing anything. We’ve picked out my art, all we have to do is see them and apply, but we’re not. We don’t even have plans to go. What’s holding us back?” Adrien asked. He tried his best to keep his voice steady and calm, but the truth was that he was worried. When Marinette didn’t say anything, Adrien sighed. “Is it because of Chloé?”

She shook her head, but when she flinched, Adrien knew he had hit the nail on the head.

He kept his voice low and quiet, reaching out to intertwine their fingers, “you know she would have wanted us to go, right? She would be mad if she found out we were delaying because we miss her.”

“But is it fair that we get to be happy, and she didn’t?” Marinette asked. She looked to the side, because it was easier to refuse him when she wasn’t looking at him. The pit in her stomach grew and she pulled her hand away to hug herself.

Adrien moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. She’s tense in his arms, but slowly, she starts to relax into his embrace.

Adrien hated seeing Marinette like this. Hated how uncertain she was and how she held herself back from the things she wanted. Most of all, he hated how he didn’t know how to get her to snap out of it. “There’s nothing we can really do about that now, is there?” Adrien asked her. “What use is it to punish ourselves? We should try to be happy for her sake.”

Marinette buried her face in his chest, trying hard not to cry again. Adrien was right and she knew it, but she just couldn’t convince herself of it. She pulled away with a heavy sigh, her breath shaky as she got herself under control. Adrien kept a hold of her hand, hoping that it gave her some comfort and peace of mind. She looked up at him, and smiled. She couldn't get herself to believe him, but having him here with here was enough. She’d be lost without his guidance. “Okay Adrien, okay.”

* * *

 

Three days later, Marinette signed Adrien out of the hospital for the day. There was a nervousness that pervaded the air around them and both of them were on edge. But in any case, both of them were smiling. Despite their nerves, they were excited.

The address that Chloé had given them was still within Paris, so they had plenty of time, and decided to make a day of it. They went to the Louvre, and admired all the art in the museum. They talked about how they used to paint in Francoise Dupont, and wondered if, perhaps, their art had made it to a gallery like this. They wondered if people had seen their art, and if it had moved them like the pieces in the Louvre did. After the museum, they went got lunch at a cafe, and walked down the streets of Paris hand in hand. For a moment, they forgot about their jobs and they forgot about donations. For a moment, they were just Adrien and Marinette. They were just a couple in love.

Towards the end of the afternoon, they got in the car again, and Marinette took them to the address that Chloé had given them. They got out of the car and Adrien retrieved his artwork from the back seat. Marinette led him to the house that she had seen Monsieur Plagg step out of. They opened the gate and walked up to the door. Adrien double checked the address and nodded at Marinette. They took deep breaths, and held each others' hands.

Marinette rang the doorbell, and they could hear the sound of it reverberate through the house. They held their breaths, waiting for someone to answer. It was Monsieur Plagg who opened the door, and when he did, his eyes went wide.

“Hi,” Marinette said. She tried to sound as friendly as possible. “I’m Marinette and this is Adrien. We went to Francoise Dupont.”

“We don’t mean you any trouble, we just want to talk,” Adrien added.

“From… Francoise Dupont?” Plagg looked surprised. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped short. A bitter smiled crossed his lips and he looked down.

“I brought you some things… for your gallery,” Adrien said. He held up the rolled up canvases and sketches, smiling nervously at Monsieur Plagg.

“Come inside,” Plagg said, and stepped out of the way to let them pass. He closed the door behind them and guided them to the living room. “Wait here, I’ll be a moment,” he said, and then left.

Adrien and Marinette looked around the room. There was a framed sketch of Francoise Dupont on the wall, the very likeness of the school captured, and Adrien tugged on Marinette’s hand. “Look.”

Marinette turned, and stared at the sketch, studying the precise lines. “It’s exactly how I remember it,” she said. Looking at the sketch, it felt as if she were in the south field looking back at the school. Any moment, she would hear Alya or Chloé calling out to her to join them in their games…

She shook her head and snapped out of it. Adrien smiled at her, whispering “we’re here, we’re so close,” before kissing her cheek and then kissing her neck. Marinette tilted her head away from him and a giggle escaped her.

They pulled away from each other, but kept hold of each others' hands as they looked around the rest of the room. Monsieur Plagg returned shortly after and gestured for the two of them to take a seat.

All three of them sat, Adrien and Marinette on the couch, and Monsieur Plagg on the seat on the other side of the coffee table. Plagg looked at the two of them, he was not very familiar with the students of the school, his visits being so brief, but he remembered Adrien. The new boy who had trouble painting and who couldn’t do art. He was surprised to see that Adrien had an armful of pieces under his arm. He looks away from the art, and at the faces of these two kids. They’d grown so much since the last time he saw them. “So,” he began. “You were saying?”

Adrien smiled, “we’re in love,” he squeezed Marinette’s hand at that and she smiled at Monsieur Plagg too. “And it’s true love… we can verify it.”

“You can?” Plagg asked. Marinette wasn’t sure if she heard sarcasm in his voice or not, but whatever it was, it was unsettling.

“Yes. We’d heard about the deferrals,” Adrien explained. “And we worked out the purpose of the gallery.”

Plagg looked surprised at this statement, “what’s the purpose?”

“To use our art to look into our souls… to verify that we weren’t lying and that we deserved a deferral.” Adrien fought to keep his voice steady. The more he spoke, the more he questioned his theory and his ideas. He glanced quickly at Marinette and she squeezed his hand, giving him silent support. “But the problem is… I drew the same thing year after year…”

“The ladybug painting,” Plagg said. He remembered it well.

“Yes, and I wasn’t sure if that was enough for you to go on. So I brought some more of my work.” Adrien lifted his collection of art again, and Marinette helped him unroll it. They set the pieces out on the coffee table, spreading it out so that Monsieur Plagg could see all of it. Adrien handed him the ladybug painting that he had kept all these years, and the sketch of Marinette’s profile that had been torn out of a sketchbook. “I drew some of this quite recently, and others like the two you’ve got are from a long time ago so you’ve got a real spread.”

Marinette tugged Adrien’s hand to get him to settle back in his seat. He was shaking, and Marinette stroked her thumb across the back of his hand, trying to calm him down.

Adrien laughed nervously. “You already have a lot of Marinette’s stuff,” he turned his head to face her and they smiled at each other. “She’s brilliant. Got stuff into the gallery just about every year we were at Francoise Dupon-”

“I’m sorry,” Plagg interrupted. He took a deep breath and sigh. “I never know what to say or do.” He looked guilty as he stared back at the clones.

“I can take it from here. It’s me that they really came to see, after all,” came a voice. Marinette and Adrien looked up, as Headmaster Tikki wheeled herself in. She sat in a wheelchair, and Plagg turned to face her.

“I told you I would come get you if you wanted to see them,” Plagg sighed. Tikki smiled apologetically at him before turning to the clones.

Adrien placed the sketches he was holding on the coffee table and leaned back into his seat. Marinette and Adrien’s hands were clasped tight, and they both swallowed hard.

“Marinette and Adrien, I remember the two of you,” Headmaster Tikki said. She looked at Marinette, “You were so kind to everyone, and everyone loved you in return,” she said, and then she turned to Adrien. “You were new, and lonely. You just wanted to be accepted,” she said to him.

The couple smiled nervously at Tikki, unsure of what to say or how to respond. Their headmaster had grown older. Her hair was greying and the wheelchair was a shock.

Tikki sighed and leaned on the armrest of her wheelchair. Her expression changed, and she looked like she felt sorry for them. “You have to understand, Francoise Dupont was the last place to consider the ethics of donation. We used your art to show what you were all capable of. How talented you all were, and how donor children were humans too.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped as she realized what Tikki was saying. She went cold and everything after that seemed to confirm her fears. But already, the world felt distant and surreal. Even with Adrien holding her hand, she had lost touch with the world.

“But the reality is, if you ask people to return to the days of lung cancer or breast cancer, Motor neuron disease, they’ll simply say ‘no’.” Tikki gave a little shake of her head to emphasize her point, but she saw that Marinette already understood. “We used to get two or three couples like you a year, but not so much these days. You’re the first for quite a while.”

She paused to let her words sink in. The couple unconsciously moved closer together, seeking strength in each other’s company. Marinette started to cry, but Adrien hadn’t noticed yet, his eyes still fixed on Tikki. It hadn’t dawned on him yet and he still looked hopeful, and it broke Tikki’s heart to have to spell it out for him. “To apply for a deferral?” Adrien asked for confirmation. He looked back and forth between Tikki and Plagg but neither of them said anything.

It was a relief to the guardians when Marinette was the one who said it. Her voice was broken as she leaned forward and said in Adrien’s ear, “There are no deferrals, Adrien.”

Adrien’s expression changed to confusion, and he glanced back at Marinette quickly, panic in his eyes. He looked back at Plagg and Tikki and Plagg repeated Marinette’s words. “We did as much as we could for you all, but the deferrals have always been out of the question. There are no deferrals, and there never have been.” His words turned bitter towards the end.

Marinette was blinking away her tears, but they kept falling. Still, her hold on Adrien’s hand was tight. She needed to give him strength because she had expected this. Deep down, she knew all along that the deferrals were too good to be true - an urban legend to keep them nice and happy and as far away from the truth as possible. But Adrien… he had really believed that they would get a deferral. Their love was real, everyone could see it. How could they not get a deferral?

Adrien wondered if this was all a cruel joke. His expression was hard as Tikki began to elaborate. “We didn’t have the gallery to look into your souls… we had the gallery to see if you had souls at all.”

The strength left Adrien’s body. Tikki, too, began to cry, and Plagg put an arm around her.

“Do you understand?” Tikki asked. She glanced up at the couple before them, and pushed away Plagg’s hand, focused entirely on the couple in front of her.

“Tikki, if it’s still too recent, I can...”

“No, It’s okay. I need to know that they understand.”

Marinette looked at Adrien, but he was nearly catatonic. She blinked away her tears, trying to be strong and whispered a quiet yes, nodding her head in case Tikki and Plagg hadn’t heard her. A short, awkward silence followed, and Tikki and Plagg looked away from the couple, guilt over taking them. Plagg glanced down that the painting and the sketch in his hands.

“These are very good, I can keep them if you want,” Plagg said, a poor attempt at changing the topic. Tikki wiped away her tears and took the sketch from Plagg. It was the very likeness of Marinette. How it hurt her to know they couldn’t do anything for these two.

But Marinette and Adrien were both broken. Marinette was trying her best to stay strong, and Adrien could barely process all that he had just heard. Adrien ran a hand through his hair and without a word, started to roll up his art. He handed the collection to Plagg, and he and Marinette stood up, ready to leave. Plagg showed them to the door.

When they stepped outside again, they saw that the sky had darkened. Adrien went straight to the car, but Marinette stayed back. She needed a moment to gather her strength for the drive back to the hospital. She turned around and looked Plagg in the eyes. “Thank you for talking to us.” She wiped away a stray tear and Plagg reached up to stroke her cheek.

“I wish I could help you.”

Marinette gave him a weak smile. “I know you’ve already done so much for us,” she said and turned away, walking back to the car. She got into the driver’s seat and drove away. She looked into her rearview mirror once, and saw that Plagg was still standing by the gate, watching as the car disappeared into the distance.

As they drove, night fell upon them, and so did the rain. The only thing they could hear was the rain hitting the windshield and it was unbearable. Marinette’s mind drifted back to the trip to Calais back when she still lived at the cottages. Is this what Mireille and Theo had felt like when they had failed to tell them anything about the deferrals? God, the silence reminded her of the drive back. Mireille and Theo hadn’t said a word to each other, and Marinette couldn’t help but wonder if she and Adrien would end up the same way the two of them did. Somehow the thought of that happening almost brought physical pain to her.

“Marinette?” Marinette blinked and took her eyes off the road for a minute to glance at Adrien. “I don’t think this is the right way,” he pointed out to her.

She looked back at the road, and realized he was right. They were in the middle of nowhere. “I – I’m sorry. I just zoned out.”

“It’s alright,” Adrien whispered. He reached out and squeezed her hand. The gesture was enough to alleviate some of her fears. She quickly turned the car around and headed back for Paris. But a few minutes into their drive back, Adrien started to bounce his leg up and down. And then his whole body started to shake. He looked restless and ill, and he gasped for air. “Sorry, can you stop for a second? I need to get out,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“What?”

“I just, I need to get out for a second.”

The road was empty. Marinette pulled over onto the side of the road, and Adrien jumped out, walking into the rain. She watched him from the car as he stumbled along. He reached the end of the headlights and began to scream. Marinette reached into the backseat and grabbed the umbrella that Adrien had left with her and got out of the car.

She opened it and ran to Adrien’s side, shielding him from the rain. He didn’t seem to notice her though, he just kept screaming in frustration. Beyond the reach of the headlights, she couldn’t see anything. There was just the car and them. Everything else was dark, and it was into the void that Adrien screamed. He couldn’t seem to contain himself, and Marinette reached out to anchor him.

He fought against her hold on him, and he tipped them both off balance before he realized Marinette was holding him. As they fell to the ground, Marinette dropped the umbrella and his screaming stopped. He was reduced to tears, sobs wracked through his body and Marinette shivered in the rain. The two of them were soaked, and they began to cry together.

Marinette pulled him closer and Adrien clung to her. Hair plastered their faces and their cheeks were wet with tears and rain. They held onto each other for dear life, and it seemed they would never let go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Hell. As always, comments and screaming are welcome c:


	7. Interlude I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an argument takes place, Adrien has another panic attack, and Alya is the real MVP. Oh, and Alya and Adrien are finally brought up to speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. Forgive me?
> 
> Suggested Listening: [Still Beating by Mac DeMarco ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlewX-2KguI)

The days following were stressful. She had received an unusual request from a patient who wanted to meet with their donor and Marinette had to arrange it. Then, a few days later, Alya got her notice for her third donation. It was scheduled to take place shortly after Adrien’s second donation. This, on top of the truth of the deferrals and Chloé’s completion was getting to be too much. Marinette couldn’t push all of her thoughts onto Alya with the stress of her donation coming up and she found it increasingly difficult to be around Adrien when it wasn’t necessary.

She thought she was strong. She thought she could keep it all together even if the deferrals were fake. But she wasn’t strong. She had misjudged herself and how horribly the deferrals would hurt her. She was beyond broken. She didn’t know what to do anymore, and being around Adrien made it all the harder to convince herself that she wasn’t devastated.

So Marinette kept cutting her visits with him short, and used Alya as an excuse to do so. When they talked, Marinette would look away from Adrien, unable to hold eye contact, and it pained her to see his forced smiles. Most of all, she hated how broken he looked whenever he thought she wasn’t looking at him. The distant look in his eyes haunted her. Once, she caught him crying, but he wiped away the tears quickly and denied it happened. All Marinette could do was tell him that she loved him, and give him her own forced smile. She hoped that that was enough.

“Marinette.” His voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she looked up at him, but she was too tired to fake a smile. His expression looked the same as hers. He, too, was tired. “What do we do now?”

She doesn’t know what to say because she’s just as lost as he is. Before, she would have said that they shouldn’t apply for the deferrals. At least then they could have believed that there was still hope. Even if they hadn’t applied, it would have always been a possibility. There would have always been a chance that they could be accepted. Now that they _had_ applied and found out the truth, the illusion was shattered. There was no hope left.

“We’ve run out of time,” he says, and something in his tone angers her. It’s broken and defeated, and she knows he’s hurt – he has every right to be – but the complete resignation bothers her. Wasn’t he the one who, with all his art, convinced her to fight for them? He spoke as if completion was right around the corner. As if everything they had longed for and worked towards had come together on the ship in Calais and was now over.

They still had time, however short it would be, but he had already given up. The uncertainty of donations meant that Adrien could very well live until his fourth surgery, or complete on his second. But even so, his second was a month away. Was this how he was going to spend their remaining moments?

“If only we’d gotten together at the cottages. At least then we would have had a few years,” Adrien laments, and it’s the last straw for Marinette.

“I can’t do this,” Marinette closes her folder and drops her pen and folder into her bag. Adrien’s surprised by the sudden sharpness in her tone and the hard look she gives him.

“What?” He asks, confused.

She spins on him and snaps. “You’re talking like we don’t still have a month left! Like we can’t be together anymore because we don’t get _more_ time. Don’t you get it? We already have time. Right now.”

The confusion dissipates and his expression becomes guarded. He frowns at her. “Marinette, you were there. You heard what Headmaster Tikki and Monsieur Plagg said, how can you not be affected by that?”

He doesn’t mean to make her sound cold and impassive, but in the moment, Marinette can’t help but be stung. She narrows her eyes at him, aghast, and for a moment, Adrien is startled by his own words. But the glare he received makes him defensive and he returns the look. “I am!” she yells at him. “I’m just as affected as you are, but you don’t get to talk about ‘what if’s’ and ‘if only’s.’ You don’t get to act like you didn’t have a hand in this.”

“So it’s my fault that we didn’t get a deferral? That deferrals don’t exist? I worked so hard for us. I drew and drew for years and it’s my fault?” he shouts back.

Marinette wants to scream, but she doesn’t. Her measured, cold, tone and the absolute fury in her eyes cut him harder than a scream could. “You really don’t get it. _You_ were the one who kept us apart for years. _You_ dated Chloé. _You_ gave me hope when you had no right to. _You_ convinced me to fight for us, and now you’re waving the white flag. Do you even know how hard it’s been for me? Years of being by myself because I didn't know how you felt –”

Adrien opens his mouth to counter, but Marinette barrels on, cutting him off.

“– and when I finally find out, I have to leave because I’m a carer – who even does that? Who tells someone they love them when they know they can’t be together?”

“What do you mean I _‘convinced’_ you to fight for us?” he asks. There’s a quiet rage in his voice too, but Marinette is too angry to be deterred.

She’s fuming, and she can’t control her voice anymore. She explodes and every reservation and thought that comes across her mind spills from her lips. “I never wanted to apply for the deferral! I knew this would happen. I knew that we’d be refused or something, and that afterwards we’d just be hurt. I knew it but you convinced me to apply anyway. You did this to us.” Angry tears are prickling her eyes and she can’t seem to blink them away.

“This isn’t my fault! Why are you blaming me for everything?”

“Because it _is_ your fault, Adrien! You might not be the one doing the donations, or the one who created us and put us in this shitty world, but this is all your fault. You can’t just shift the blame to the situation and make me feel like shit because of _your decisions_.”

Her words are so much worse than any pain he’s ever felt. The donations had nothing on her stinging tone or the resentment in her eyes. He can barely breathe, let alone reply, and it’s this pause that Marinette gathers the rest of her things and runs from the room.

His vision blurs and Adrien can’t even see her retreating form. It’s then that the rage leaves him and he realizes that he’s crying. He wipes away the tears on his sleeve, but he can’t seem to stop. He looks around him and all he sees are stark, white walls – that art having been pulled down upon their return from the failed application – and panic seizes him.

_‘I never wanted to apply for the deferral!’_

Did she ever love him?

' _You did this to us._ ’

He did this. He was the one who hurt them. Who hurt _her_.

He looks around the room again, eyes shifting quickly over the surfaces and unable to focus on one place. The walls distort and stretch and his heart races. The door seems miles away and the room expands until he’s just a speck. He’s nothing. Insignificant. Alone.

Adrien can’t breath and he gasps for air. His fists clench, and he can’t seem to get a hold of himself or anything around him. He’s grasping at nothing, and he feels like he’s drowning. Another frenzied shift of his eyes and he scans the room. The white walls are huge and far away and he can’t escape. Suddenly, he’s a little boy again, alone and trapped in a white room.

* * *

Alya flips through the photos on her camera, looking at all the pictures that Chloé took when the trio went to Calais. When she’s done, she turns on video mode and presses record.

Before she can start filming herself, the yelling begins. She clenches her teeth, at the biting remarks. She doesn’t have to try hard to make out what’s being said, and she wonders if and when she should intervene. But before she comes to a decision, the yelling stops and there’s silence.

She’s well enough now that she can stand on her own, but she takes the walker in case. She leaves the camera hanging around her neck. When she reaches the door though, she stops. What was there to say to Adrien? Of course, she was on Marinette’s side. She’d been there with her through the years of pining, and Marinette was right. Adrien was the one at fault.

She’s protective of her best friend, and she’s angry at Adrien for the things he’s done. Marinette was hurting because of him, and Alya would not forgive Adrien for that. But Alya knows how hard Adrien’s been trying to make up for everything too. Sometimes, when she can’t sleep, she’ll see the light in his room still on, and in the morning, he’ll have new sketches.

After they returned from Headmaster Tikki’s and Monsieur Plagg’s, the late night sketching stopped, but Adrien and Alya started to spend their mornings together before Marinette arrived. There was always something distant about him during those times, and Alya noticed the puffiness around his eyes. No doubt, he’d been crying at night. The two of them would talk about their days back at Francoise Dupont, and without fail, Adrien would ask how Marinette felt back then.

Even in his pain, he was thinking about her.

With a sigh, Alya opened the door and walked across the hall. She knocked on the door before entering, but looked up to see Adrien rocking himself back and forth on the bed. She immediately pushes the walker away, and goes to his side.

“Adrien? Adrien, are you alright? What’s going on?” He was gasping for air, murmuring to himself between breaths. His eyes were focused on something far off, his pupils blown wide. He didn't even seem to notice that Alya was there.

Alya reached behind the bed and pressed the call nurse button. Within minutes, a nurse was there, and quickly assessed the situation. She called for other nurses as Alya tried her best to calm Adrien down.

She touched his arm, and he flinched. His eyes go wider than they already are and he retreats from Alya. Somehow, he still hasn’t recognized her. “Adrien, it’s me. Alya. What happened? Come on, try to breath.” She kept her voice low and steady, but Adrien was shaking.

The nurse returned with two others and suddenly, there’s a piercing scream. Alya’s startled and she jumps back. One of the nurses takes her arm, steadying her before trying to lead Alya back to her room. The nurse reassures her that they’ll take care of Adrien, but his screams don’t help.

A nurse pulls on blue latex gloves and prepares to sedate him. Adrien’s eyes catch the glint off the needle, and he starts to thrash.

“No, no – no! No drugs… don’t. Please. Its hurts, I can’t breathe,” he rambles. He clutches his chest and wheezes. Alya tries to push the nurse away from her. She needs to get to Adrien, she could help him.

But the nurses aren’t listening. One restrains Adrien and the other finds the vein in his arm.

“Please. _Please, please, no,_ it hurts it hurts –”

Alya’s pulled from the room and escorted back to hers. She can hear Adrien scream one last time before the nurse closes the door on her. With a shout, she slams her fist against the wall in anger, with the swing of her arm, her camera bumps against the wall, and it’s then that she remembers that it’s still recording.

* * *

With how close they had gotten and the amount they talked to each other during their weekly meetings, it was natural for Marinette to turn to Bridgette. Often, their conversations strayed to personal topics, Bridgette would talk about the things that Madame Sabine had told her – how Sabine had sat Bridgette down one day and told her how she couldn’t conceive, how she looked for her lost sister, and how devastated she was when she had to leave Francoise Dupont. Marinette, in turn, talked about the funeral for Chloé, and about the deferrals.

“So then, that’s it? You just left?”

“You have to see my side of this. He hurt me, but I let it slide because I thought we could finally be happy. Even if we didn’t get the deferral, I was going to make the most of our remaining time together… but he just… he doesn’t do any of that. I get it. He’s upset and that’s fine, but he’s not doing anything about it,” Marinette let out a frustrated sigh. It was so hard to explain everything.

Bridgette seemed to consider Marinette’s point for a moment, but then looked down. “You know, in some ways, you were more prepared to deal with this outcome than he was. You were ready to make the most out of your relationship even without the deferral, but that was never a possibility for him. He’s going to take longer to recover from this… and you suddenly bringing up everything he’s done wrong is like… beating him when he’s already down.”

Marinette swallowed hard. “So it’s my fault?”

“No, no!” Bridgette waved her hand, as if to dismiss the very idea. “I just mean, you have to see it from his side too.”

Silence fell over the two girls and Bridgette sighed.

“Look, what you have to think about now is, are you guys going to be together? Or is this the end? You’re still his carer, so are you going to find him a new one, or keep at this? Because if you stay, then you can’t just keep up this animosity towards him.”

“Animosity? I’m not –”

“But you are. From what you’ve told me, Chloé’s done a lot worse to you than him. Sure, they’re both to blame, but you _forgave_ Chloé. Is that just because she completed? Because you feel guilty that she’s not here anymore? Cause that wouldn’t be very fair to Adrien.”

Marinette glared at Bridgette. “That’s a low blow.” Who was she to tell Marinette what was and wasn’t fair? Bridgette, through some stroke of luck, ended up being Sabine and Tom’s daughter, and she ended up with the shorter lot. Neither of them were the original, so how was _that_ fair?

Bridgette seemed to sense that she had overstepped her bounds, and leaned back in her seat. “Sorry. You’re right. That was wrong of me.” She looked genuinely apologetic, and reached out to touch Marinette’s hand. “Forget what I said.”

The flash of anger passed, and the tension left Marinette’s shoulders. “No. You’re right. It’s just weird. We haven’t know each other for very long but you _understand._ ” She gives a little huff. “And somehow you know exactly what buttons to push with me.”

Bridgette chuckled lightly. “We’re sisters after all.” She retracted her hand and took a sip of coffee.

“You know, that actually something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Us being sisters?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. But you had a point just then.” Marinette paused, organizing her thoughts. She didn’t want to get sidetracked with talk about her relation to Bridgette. Not quite yet. She had to get this out first. “There was a couple I met years ago at the cottages. They had asked us Francoise Dupont students about the deferrals, but we didn’t know anything back then.”

“Oh? What did you tell them then? Did they ever find out the truth?”

Marinette shook her head. “No, I don't think so. But like I said, we didn’t know anything, so they never even had the chance to apply. They were devastated.”

“And?”

“It broke them up, and it kind of scares me that this is the end of me and Adrien too. Like, I can’t help thinking what if the deferrals had been real? Would we have been accepted for it if it was? Because I thought our love was real, and that it was strong, but… but if this is all it takes to break us up, then what if it wasn’t true love all along?” Marinette took a sip of her coffee, and then glanced down at her cup. “Worst of all, it would be my fault, right? Because even though he’s hurt me, Adrien really does love me.”

Bridgette paused to think over Marinette’s words. “You know, Marinette, every couple goes through hardships, and just because you and Adrien are in the middle of one right now doesn’t mean that what you have isn’t real love. You two are just reacting differently to disappointment right now. It not that you love Adrien less than he loves you.”

“But I can’t help thinking that –”

Bridgette shook her head, cutting off Marinette’s doubts.  “Conflict isn’t what defines your love. How you and Adrien respond to it, and how you overcome it is what proves if you’re meant to be or not.” She paused to take Marinette’s hand in hers again. “Love is hard work. You think all of Adrien’s art appeared one day because he realized he love you? No, it took years of work. He put in the effort to try to make your relationship happen. Now it’s your turn, so cut him some slack.”

Bridgette smiled and Marinette gave her a tentative one as well.

“Now, what was it that you were thinking about us being sisters?”

* * *

Marinette showed up at the hospital a week after her talk with Bridgette. She had been reprimanded for neglecting her donors, especially Alya, since her donation was coming up so soon. But even after discussing everything with Bridgette, she felt unsteady. How was she going to face Adrien? What would she say?

As she stepped through the hospital doors, she pushed the thoughts from her head. Planning her conversations with Adrien didn’t seem like a good idea, after all, the last time she did that, she had been caught completely off guard. She figured that being honest and genuine and kind was her best option.

She went to Alya’s room first, and set down a box of macarons, gifts from Bridgette – but of course, Alya didn’t know that. She really did need to tell Alya and Adrien… but, of course, once everything had settled.

“Marinette!” Alya got out of bed and walked over to her friend, hugging her.

Marinette smiled. “You seem well,” she laughed. “Look at you!”

“Well, I need to be at my best for my next donation, right?” Alya replied. “Want to go for a walk?”

Marinette nodded. “Yeah, I want to talk to you about some things.” Alya seemed to agree. She took her camera and the two went out into the courtyard. There were only a few people out there that day. Other donors and some carers.

“So I think we both know what we want to talk about,” Alya said as they began their walk. Marinette nodded.

“Adrien. Yeah.” And then Marinette narrowed her eyes. “How is it that you always know what’s going on?”

“I’m good at investigating… and you two were really loud.”

Marinette looked away, embarrassed. “Oh god.”

“I’ll cut you some slack though. You seem… well, I wouldn’t go as far as to say cheerful, but I’m going to take this as a good sign. You’re going to make up with him, right?” Alya paused. “Because if you don’t then I’m going to have to knock some sense into you.”

“So you’re on his side now?”

“It’s not that… Marinette, there’s something you should know about.”

“What is it?”

“Did you know Adrien had panic attacks?”

Marinette frowned. “Rose made a note in his file about it. Why?”

“He had one the other day right after you left.”

Marinette stopped walking and put a hand on Alya’s shoulder. Alya turned and looked down at the camera hanging around her neck. “How bad was it?”

She needed to know, not just because she was his carer and she needed to be prepared so that she could help him, but because she had caused it. She was sure of it. And she needed to know just how bad she had hurt him if she was going to make it up to him.

“Well?”

Alya picked up her camera and flipped to a video before handing it to Marinette. She pressed play, and even from the awkward angle the camera was held at, she could see Adrien’s flailing limbs and hear his screaming. She saw the nurses entering and how Adrien thrashed against them, pleading for _something_ , and she saw how Alya was pulled from the room. The video ended and Marinette wordlessly handed the camera back to Alya.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” she said, her voice quiet.

“Oh Marinette. You were hurt too. You didn’t know that he’d react like this.”

“But I knew about the panic attacks. I’d read his file a million times, so I knew.”

“Mari, I’m not telling you about this to make you feel bad. I don't want you to just sit there blaming yourself. I want you to know so you can be prepared for next time and so that you can understand him better,” Alya said. Her voice was gentle and Marinette looked up at her friend. “Adrien made mistakes, and so have you. But that’s fine. People are allowed to be wrong sometimes. So long as you guys do something about it, and try to fix the problem, then it’s fine.”

Marinette hugged Alya then. God, she was so much better at handling things like this than she was. Alya knew when to tell people off and when not to. She knew how to be gentle about things, and when she needed to smack someone for something. And as bad as Marinette felt at that moment, she was glad for Alya. “God, what would I do without you, Alya?”

Alya falls silent at the question. After a while, the girls pulled away from each other, and Alya lifts the camera strap from around her neck and hands the camera to Mari. “There’s something I want to ask you to do for me, okay?”

“What is it?” Marinette looks down at the camera in her hands.

“It’s about my next donation.”

* * *

Marinette brought Alya back up to her room because Alya said it was better that Marinette and Adrien sort out their problems themselves without a third party. Still, Marinette’s mind was reeling from Alya’s request, and she took a moment to get her thoughts in order. After sharing a few macarons and leaving Alya’s room, Marinette put the camera away in her bag and headed to a general waiting room and called Bridgette.

It took a few rings, but finally, someone picked up from the other end. “Hello?”

“Marinette?”

“Hey, Bridgette. I just. I needed to take a breather and talk to someone.”

There was shifting on the other end before Bridgette replied. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind, and I wanted to see if we could meet up again this week.”

Bridgette paused before answering. “I think so. I’ll have a look at my schedule and let you know.”

“Great.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk now?” There was more shifting on the other end, and some yelling. Marinette waited for it to pass before she replied.

“Yeah, it can wait. Besides, you sound busy over there. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. Bye.”

“Bye Bridgette.”

Marinette clicked her phone off, and dropped it back in her bag. She went to Adrien’s room, took a deep breath, and then knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came his voice. Marinette pushed the door open and took a few tentative steps into the room. She waited until Adrien looked up at her before she went any further.

When he did finally look at her, there was a light smile on his face – but that was about the only good thing she saw. He looked so pale, and there were dark, purple circles under his eyes. Marinette had to stop herself from gasping, but Adrien noted her expression all the same.

“I look like shit, don’t I?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. His voice was hoarse, no doubt from crying all night. Marinette went to his side and sat next to him.

But Adrien didn’t put an arm around her or take her hand as he usually did. He links their pinkies together and stares down at their hands, but Marinette still feels the distance between them. She bit her lip, looking at him in concern. She wanted to reach out and stroke his face. She wanted to hold him until he fell into a deep sleep and woke up refreshed. She wanted to say sorry.

Adrien didn’t look up to meet her eyes, so Marinette looks down too. With this distance between them, she suddenly realized how much she missed his touch. Weeks of unbearable silences and awkwardness, and then a full week of avoiding him altogether built up inside her and threatened to spill forth. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words died on her tongue and she couldn't get it across to him how sorry she was. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried not to cry, hoping that, through their fingers, he was somehow able to understand.

And luckily, Adrien knew her well. He pulled her towards him, and made her lean her head down on his shoulder. “I told you, didn’t I? I’ll be here if you need a shoulder to cry on.” His words are all she needs for the dam to break, and she’s sobbing. She was the one who made a mess of things and here he was comforting her.

They sit like that for a while. The only sound to be heard is of Marinette’s crying. Through all of this, Adrien is silent. They're only connected by their fingers and her head on his shoulder, but somehow, it’s enough. It feels right.

When her tears are nothing but mere sniffles and puffy eyes, Adrien turns towards her, cupping her face with his hand. The distant look is still in his eyes and he looks exhausted, but Adrien looks stronger than she initially thought. He brings his face closer and brushes his lips over her cheeks, kissing away the remaining tears. Her eyes flutter close. He’s soft against her and she finds solace in his kisses.

She places a hand over his and leans into his touch, kissing the palm of his hand. He nuzzles her with his nose. These little touches convey all the lost words between them. Through his faint kisses he tells her that it’s okay, and through her lips on his hand she tells him thank you.

Adrien pulls away but keeps close, and Marinette opens her eyes. She doesn’t think she can find the words to express their feelings in that moment, so instead, she leans up and kisses him. Touches are better. Between the way her lips move against his, and the sigh he offers back, they’ve already spoken enough to understand.

Marinette climbs over him and settles on his lap. She wants to tell him more, she wants him to know what she’s thinking in that exact moment so she threads her fingers through his hair and pulls him close. She crushes their lips together, and he places a hand on the small of her back and his other hand is tangled in her hair. The kiss is slow, but ardent and Adrien runs a hand down along her side again and again. She gasps at the fervor of his response and he tilts his head to the side, giving her more room to move. More room to speak.

She’s quivering in his arms, and her tears are flowing again. But this time, it’s from the softness of his touch and the intensity of her emotions. When they pull away from each other for the second time, Adrien’s cheeks are wet with her tears, and it’s her turn to kiss them away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, finally. His hold around her tightens.

“I know. I am too,” he says, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The brush of his lips on her skin makes her shiver and she sighs.

“I didn’t mean any of that,” she started to say, but he cut her off.

“No, Mari. It’s okay. I hurt you. You had every right to be mad.”

“But I shouldn’t have said it like I did. I shouldn’t have said it so soon after… after we found out. And I hurt you too.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek. “We we’re both at fault.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” he whispered.

Marinette recalled her talk with Bridgette and she nodded, agreeing with him. “Because we can work through this.”

“And anyway, even if the deferrals don’t exist… At least we know. At least we don’t have any regrets now,” Adrien added. “We’ll be okay. I’ll survive all my donations. We’ll have time together.” Adrien lifted his head, eyes wet, and kissed her again. He wasn’t as slow as last time, but he was still gentle, and he told her everything he wanted to say through the brush of his lips.

Somehow, Marinette understood exactly what he was trying to say with that kiss. This was their secret language, and she responded in kind.

* * *

It had only been a few days, but things settled down and it was almost peaceful. Marinette settled back into her routine of visiting her donors, and getting things for them. She even had time to read through the file of the patient who had requested to meet their donor, and to collect the appropriate paper work for that. She just needed to get Adrien to sign it. Of course,  as peaceful as things had gotten, Marinette, Adrien and Alya were still hurt over Chloé. Marinette strongly suspected she would never be over her completion, but she was okay with that. She and Adrien had come to terms with the deferrals, and things were mending between them.

Marinette went to Alya’s room as per usual, and handed Alya an envelope of pictures. “I got those developed, finally.”

“Ohhhh, you want to look at them together?” Alya asked.

“No, another time.” Marinette shook her head.

Alya put the envelope on the table next to the bed. “So, what do you have for me today?”

“Pears. I saw some in the store for cheap so I bought some for you and Adrien.” Marinette took a few pears out from a plastic bag and went to the bathroom to wash them in the sink. She returned a moment later, preparing to cut the fruit for Alya.

“Not that I’m complaining about pears, but what happened to all the baked goods? You haven’t brought any in days,” Alya said. “Did you give up looking for your possible?”

Marinette stopped. “Oh. Um.”

“Mari? Are you okay?”

“I need to tell you something. Well, I need to tell you and Adrien. Can I just go get him?”

Alya raised an eyebrow, her expression questioning and worried, but she nodded and Marinette quickly left the room. Shit. She’d forgotten about this. Marinette knocked on Adrien’s door across the hall and poked her head in. He was sitting by the window, a book in hand. He looked up and smiled at Marinette. “Aren’t you a little early?”

Marinette nodded. “I need to talk to you and Alya, so do you mind…”

Adrien closed his book and left it on his bed. He followed Marinette back to Alya’s room and greeted the other girl before taking a seat in the chair. Marinette settled herself in the chair next to his, and he reached out, taking her hand. He was always doing that these days – always trying to maintain some kind of contact with her like she was his lifeline.

“So what’s going on?” Adrien asked. Alya shrugged.

“God. Okay, first of all, can I just say that there never seemed to be a right time to talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” Adrien pressed for her to go on.

But by then, Alya had already had an inkling as to what Marinette was going on about.

“Her possible,” Alya answered.

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s about my possible,” Marinette confirmed. Except Bridgette wasn’t really her possible. She was more than a possible, but she wasn’t her original either. She was her sister of sorts, and Marinette’s brain raced to find a way to explain everything. “I found her – rather, she found me.”

“What?” Adrien repeated. He tightened his hold on her hand ever so slightly, and Marinette turned to face him. “When? How?”

“It’s really… complicated?” Marinette didn’t even know how she was going to explain about Madame Sabine.

“Wait, first. When did you – she find you? When did this happen?” Alya asked.

“Right before Adrien transferred. Just before Chloé…” Marinette stopped mid-sentence. “… You can see why there wasn’t really a good time to bring this up.”

“What’s she like?” Adrien asked. There was something in his voice that caught Marinette’s attention, and she wasn’t sure what it was. Adrien’s face was blank. She couldn’t gather anything of his thoughts from his expression and it worried her.

“Her name’s Bridgette. She’s surprisingly a lot like me, but we’re different in little ways.” Marinette squeezed Adrien’s hand. Their little touches conveyed something more than the words they spoke. It was like they were having a separate, private conversation. “Let me start from the beginning.”

Adrien and Alya nodded and waited for Marinette to collect her thoughts.

“She showed up at the hospital a few days before Chloé’s donation. Apparently, she’d been looking for me as well.” Adrien and Alya looked like they were about to interrupt her so Marinette cut them off. “And before you ask how she knew about me, it was because of Madame Sabine. This is where it gets kind of complicated.”

“What does Madame Sabine have to do with this?” Alya asked. She looked surprised at the mention of their former guardian.

“She wanted children but had a low chance of reproducing. So she had embryos cloned and implanted.”

“You’re her daughter?” Adrien’s eyes went wide.

“Sort of. Bridgette was actually the one that was born to Madame Sabine. I was taken to Francoise Dupont because Madame Sabine couldn’t afford to keep me in storage,” Marinette answered. She shrugged. “It was the luck of the draw, I suppose.”

“So then Bridgette is really it. She’s not just your possible. She’s actually your original,” Alya said. Marinette shook her head.

“Technically, neither of us are the original. We’ve decided to call each other… sisters. She told me Madame Sabine told her all of this after years of keeping it a secret, and that’s why she was looking for me.”

Alya furrowed her brow, digging for more answers. “Why was Madame Sabine at Francoise Dupont? Was she looking for you?”

Marinette nodded. “Half the reason why she told us about the donations when she did is because of me.”

“Have you seen Madame since then?” Alya prodded for more answers, and Marinette shook her head.

“She doesn’t know that Bridgette was looking for me, or that we found each other, but Bridgette offered to help set up a meeting.” A silence settled between the three of them, and Marinette gave a nervous laugh. “You two are taking this better than I did, at least. I threw up when Bridgette told me about it all.”

Marinette giggled nervously and turned to face Adrien. He had grown quiet and his silence was unsettling.

“Adrien?”

He shook his head and snapped out of it. Both girls gave him worried looks, and Alya was scared he was about to set off into another panic attack. Marinette squeezed his hand tighter and then relaxed her hold on him. He bit his lip. “I’m fine.” He paused, staring at the ground. “Are you going to meet with her then? Madame, that is.”

“I… haven’t decided yet.”

Alya looked back and forth between the couple and then sighed. “Marinette, just take things at your own pace, okay?” Marinette nodded.

“It’s such a relief to finally tell the two of you. I wasn’t hiding it, but it was hard to bring up with everything else that’s been going on.” Marinette sighed, relieved. She gave a tentative smile to Adrien, but still, there was something unreadable in his expression.

“Marinette, could I talk to you for a moment?” Adrien said. Marinette nodded, and the two of them excused themselves. Alya smiled at Marinette, offering her support, as the couple left the room. When the door closed behind them, Alya cut the pears up herself.

They went to Adrien’s room and Marinette closed the door behind them. Adrien didn’t let go of her hand the whole time and they sat on his bed. She waited for him to say something. His silence was worrying her and she felt guilty. Had she been wrong? Was Adrien mad at her for keeping this secret for so long?

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Adrien asked. His voice was softer than she expected. As unreadable as his expression was, there was no anger in his eyes at all. It was relieving, in a way.

“Like I said, there wasn’t a good time to bring it up. Chloé’s donation happened, and you transferred to Paris. And then the deferrals… ”

“But it’s been weighing on your mind, and you’ve had to deal with this yourself,” Adrien countered. “I remember the whole possible incident with Chloé at the cottages. She’d just heard that it was _maybe_ her possible and she was all jittery about it. I can only imagine how you felt when you came face to face with Bridgette… and you said you threw up, too.”

“Adrien, I’m fine. I was fine dealing with this myself. Besides, you were pretty torn up about the deferrals, and then I was pretty terrible back to you, and –”

“No, Marinette. It’s okay. We’ve been over that already. We both made mistakes but we’re better for it. Just… when something big like this happens. Like finding your original, or sister, don’t… you don’t have to deal with it yourself. No matter what I’m going through, I want to be there for you too, so don’t keep things from me. Tell me, okay?”

“Oh…okay.” Her answer was quiet. Marinette never knew how to accept Adrien’s kindness and support. Adrien kissed her on the forehead, and she relaxed into his side. “Actually, there’s one other thing that I haven’t told you about.”

“More secrets?” Adrien joked.

“As if you don’t keep secrets from me,” Marinette punched his arm. “But anyway, it’s about your next donation.” Marinette said. “And it’s not really a secret, just… like I said, so much had been happening, I didn’t know when to bring it up, and plus I haven’t been a very good carer lately.”

“You’re a wonderful carer,” Adrien said as he pulled Marinette close and closed his eyes, humming a low, soothing note. All this talk about possibles and originals had his mind clouded with memories of the distant past. “What is it?”

“A patient put in a request to meet their donor so I have some paperwork for you to fill out.”

“Oh…?” Adrien opened his eyes. His skin tingled and the air around them was off. Something was telling Adrien that something was wrong. “Have you read their file yet?”

Marinette nodded, and as she answered him his heart seized. “Yeah, his name is Felix.”

His face went deathly white, and Marinette noticed the change immediately. She put an arm around his shoulders and shook him lightly.

“Adrien? Adrien, what’s wrong?” worry evident in her tone.

He could feel the white walls pressing down on him. His chest tightened and he gasped for air. When he turned to look at Marinette, she could see the distant look in his eyes again. He was shaking and she held him tighter. But he forced a smile on his face and it came out rueful. “It seems, I have things I need to tell you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! c:


	8. The White Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the past is mostly explained. Sorry for the slow start. I swear it picks up towards the end.
> 
> Warning: child neglect, sort of. Adrien is put through some medical tests and has a panic attack. Oh, and there's swearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impatient so everything's a mess and i give up. (unbeta'd so... be gentle?)
> 
> Suggested Listening: [Daydreaming by Radiohead](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTAU7lLDZYU)

For as long as Adrien could remember, Gabriel was always upfront about his purpose in life. Even though Adrien didn’t understand it at the time, Gabriel made it clear that he had created Adrien for one reason, and that was to save his family. Adrien couldn’t tell when Gabriel first said this to him, but he was always aware of it.

But Adrien figures that this came after his first donation. He didn’t really have self-awareness before that first procedure. His earliest memory was of the shine of a bright light, and Nathalie’s masked face. He remembers seeing Gabriel disinfecting himself and being wheeled into another room which he stayed in for the entire duration of his recovery. After that, he remembers white walls.

Before that first donation, there were only vague images, like the face of a woman he later knew to be Nathalie. Still, memory is a tricky thing, and Adrien was never sure if these memories came from before the first donation, or if they came later during one of his drug induced hallucinations.

Mostly though, Adrien just remembers a flash of indistinguishable images. After all, most of his days were so similar and cyclical that they seemed to blur into one another. He knows that Nathalie came to check on him daily and that her visits grew longer during his recovery, but he aside from her different outfits, he had no way of telling one day from the next. He’d sleep when he wanted to no matter what time of day or night. Sometimes, he’d wake up in pain and instinctively turn a dial or press a button for more painkillers, and then he would stare at the walls until he lost consciousness again. He couldn’t tell seconds from hours. Everything in the apartment was still and all he could do was lie in bed and stare at the walls.

If he was lucky, sometimes Nathalie would leave the curtains pulled back before she left. His bed was positioned just far enough that he could see a stretch of sky. Adrien would wake up as the painkillers were wearing off, and he’d hold off on replenishing it. He’d try to bear it for as long as he could. At those times, his mind was clearest, and he’d stare out the window. Every day, the sky was different. Sometimes it was clear, other times, cloudy, or dark. He loved seeing planes flying by, leaving white streaks in the sky, and the stars were his favourite. This was his only respite from the white walls of his room.

Other times, the pain was too unbearable and Adrien would turn the dial as far as it would go. He’d feel woozy, his mind a haze and everything seemed veiled and distant. The moments before unconsciousness took him again were the worst. It was like he was just floating in limbo.

When he finally started to get better, Nathalie would let him out of bed when she was there. He’d do anything to convince her he was well enough just so that he could sit up in bed and look at something besides the walls or the sky. Early on, she had taught him to read and she brought him books to keep him entertained. The books were a welcome distraction from the pain and from the emptiness of the apartment, and he found a strange pleasure in the look of surprise on Nathalie’s face when he told her that he’d finished another book.

By the time he was well enough to get out of bed and move around properly, Adrien welcomed the test and experiments that Nathalie and Gabriel ran on him. They’d make him run on the treadmill or lift weights and record his progress. Sometimes, they drew blood samples or ran urine tests. His diet was strictly controlled and he did everything they asked because it felt nice to receive small pats on the back or smiles from Nathalie when his progress was good.

In the rare moments, he’d even receive a small comment from Gabriel.

They were never directly about Adrien. The comments were more about Gabriel’s work and the outcomes of the tests he put Adrien through. Adrien remembered a time when Gabriel made a change to his diet, and a month later his results were better than expected. Gabriel had looked down on his clipboard and said, “Excellent progress.”

It was two words and they weren’t even directed at him, but Adrien felt a rush of pride. After that, he did everything he could to please Nathalie and Gabriel. Whether it was maintaining his regular diet or exercising regularly, he did it all.

But Gabriel’s visits were much rarer. He only came for important experiments, when a donation was approaching, or for the donation itself. Otherwise, Nathalie would be the one running all the tests, preparing Adrien for surgery, or looking after him. She was like a carer of sorts. She had essentially raised him, though her visits were less frequent as Adrien grew and learned to care for himself. Still, Gabriel and Nathalie were the only two people Adrien ever saw, and that meant they were all he had.

* * *

Adrien was seven years old when he was told that his second donation was coming up, and he knew exactly what that meant. Nathalie didn’t even have to say anything and he headed for the fourth room. She followed after the little boy, watching him carefully. He sat down on the examination table and rolled up his sleeve wordlessly while Nathalie prepared to draw blood.

These tests and procedures were such practiced habits that Nathalie didn’t have to pay much attention to what she was doing once she had found Adrien’s vein. Instead, she focused on this little boy’s expression. His face was blank as he stared ahead at the wall. He showed no signs that he even felt the prick of the needle, and it disturbed her. Even though he shared DNA with Felix Agreste, Adrien was different from the other boy. Yes, he had accelerated growth and enhanced genetics, but there was something more than that… Both boys were brilliant, but where Felix was warm and compassionate, Adrien was cold, emotionless, apathetic… he seemed inhuman somehow.

But that was the way things were, wasn’t it? Adrien wasn’t human, no matter how closely he resembled one. He was a clone. Somehow, this was supposed to make her job easier. He was different from her. He didn’t have feelings, and his only purpose was for the experiments and the donations. But even still, Nathalie had raised this clone from the test tube to the clone he was now. Even as apathetic as he had been designed to be, she thought that she would have had some kind of influence on him. His distant eyes and blank expression unnerved her.

Nathalie shivered and removed the needle, looking away from the boy. She took a swab of gauze and dabbed it in alcohol before rubbing at Adrien’s arm and placing a bandage over the little wound. Still, the boy had no reaction, and she sent him back out to the living room. Nathalie packed away the blood samples carefully, and put them in her bag. She’d have to bring them to Gabriel’s office later, but first she needed to explain Adrien’s new fitness regime and diet to him. He was only seven, but with the accelerated growth, he understood more than the average child his age, and though she would be coming by daily to look after him, he needed to know the new routine so that he could do this for himself one day.

Nathalie walked out into the living room and saw that Adrien was just sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall again. She approached him, setting aside the blood samples and her bag before speaking to him. “Adrien, what are you doing?”

“Breathing.”

“Do you ever get bored?” she asked him.

He looked away from the wall momentarily to make eye contact with her. He seemed to consider her question and then shrugged. “Sometimes. But I read the books you bring me,” he answered. For a second, he almost sounded excited before his voice fell into a flat tone again. Nathalie shook her head, she must have been imagining it.

“Would you like me to bring more books next time I see you?”

“Yes please,” his reply was polite and mechanical, but this time, Nathalie was sure she saw the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Alright then,” she said, and made a mental note of it. She took out an itinerary from her suitcase and handed a copy to Adrien. “This will be your new schedule from now on,” she started to explain. Adrien flipped the page and listened to her as she spoke about his diet and about his exercise regime. He nodded and was silent while Nathalie explained the tests that would be run, and what Gabriel’s predicted results would be. She told him about the consequences if he failed to meet the expected performance and then she covered the donation itself and the recovery. “So then, is there anything you want to know about the upcoming procedures?” she asked when she had finished explaining everything.

Adrien looked up from the itinerary and tilted his head to the side. His eyes settled on the blank walls again. “Why don’t I ever see Gabriel?”

Nathalie was taken aback. She floundered and wasn’t sure how to respond. Adrien turned away from the wall and his eyes settled on hers again, but he was otherwise patient in waiting for her reply. “That… that’s not related to the upcoming surgery,” she said. She’d have to speak to Gabriel about this later to see how he wanted her to handle this.

“Oh.” Adrien’s reaction was nothing short of his usual emotionless behaviour. If he was disappointed in Nathalie’s reply, he didn’t show it.

Nathalie blinked at him, waiting for him to come up with some retort or follow up question, but Adrien said nothing. She didn’t think she would ever get used to this… these little cracks in Adrien’s apathy. She never knew how to feel about it. On the one hand, he seemed more human this way and it relieved her to know that she had had some impact on him; she had created some feeling in him. On the other, knowing how Adrien was created, it was abnormal…

The silence lasted a moment too long, and the air was thick with an awkwardness. At least, that’s how Nathalie felt. In the end, Nathalie cleared her throat and put her copy of the itinerary away. She didn’t really know what to say to Adrien as she got up to leave, so she settled for her usual, “good bye. I will see you tomorrow.”

Adrien nodded in response, but there was still something off. Nathalie figures that she will never be able to read Adrien, but in this moment, she feels as if he’s disappointed. Maybe he had been disappointed in her answer to him after all. Maybe it just took her longer to decipher his expressions.

But Nathalie doesn’t know what to do or how to cheer Adrien up. She could offer him a hug, or to bring him a book he likes, but the first option would be strange and she doesn’t know anything about this boy – not what his interests are anyway. She doesn’t even think he knows what his own interests are. She bites her lip and gathers her things before leaving the apartment in a rush and locking the door behind her.

* * *

It was rare for Nathalie to see the Agreste family all together. She was close friends with Angeline, and her job as Gabriel’s personal assistant meant that she was with him nearly all hours of the day. But taking care of Adrien was also a huge part of her job, and when she was with Adrien, Gabriel was with his family, and Angeline often spent more time with her son than anyone else. Still, there were moments when Nathalie saw Angeline and Felix. Having inherited his illness from his mother, Felix was almost always accompanied by a nurse, even when he was at his best. On this occasion, the nurse stood to the side and both parents were next to him. They were all smiling and happy.

The weather was beautiful and Felix was uncharacteristically restless. After some convincing, his mother and Caline, the nurse, both agreed that fresh air would do him some good, so a blanket was rolled out over the grass in the back garden, and a light picnic was set out for lunch.

Gabriel was in his study when he heard the sound of his wife and son’s laughter drifting into the room. As the lead scientist in cloning research, Gabriel stuck by his principle of hard work. But looking out the window and seeing the golden glimmer of Angeline’s hair in the sunlight, and the wide smile on Felix’s face – the scene was too perfect, and the occasion so rare, that Gabriel could not pass up the chance to spend the lunch hour with his family instead of cooped up in the dark office.

He dismissed Nathalie for an early lunch and left to join his family. One of the servants informed her that he would bring up some extra sandwiches that had been prepared for the picnic, and Nathalie thanked him before stepping out onto the back patio. The weather really was beautiful, so she sat by the table and waited for her lunch to arrive. Nathalie and Felix’s personal nurse made idle chatter. Though the back garden was large, Nathalie could see the Agreste family and hear them too. However, after smiling and waving to Angeline and Felix, she decided to let the family have a moment to themselves. The sandwiches arrived and she shared them with the nurse.

“Felix is doing really well today, isn’t he?” Nathalie said as she turned away from the Agreste family. She picked up a sandwich and took a bite. “You wouldn’t think that anything was wrong with them, if you just saw them like this.”

Caline nodded, but then she turned away from the Agreste family too. Her expression grew somber and she lowered her voice. “But it never stays like this for long, does it? Felix isn’t as lucky as his mother was.”

Nathalie frowned. “She’s been in remission for over a decade. Surely, Felix inherited her strength too?”

The nurse shook her head, and looked back towards the family. “Today is a good day, but he’s not been feeling well lately. I’ve been looking after Felix long enough to know when he’s trying to hide it.” Nathalie’s frown deepened and she shifted her gaze to the boy. She knew Caline was right. The very fact that she was prepping Adrien for his next donation was proof of her statement.

Nathalie watched as Felix laughed at something his mother said and began to cough, choking on his own spit. His parents were fretting, and Nathalie’s heart fell when she saw the concern on Angeline’s face and the worry on Gabriel’s. This bright boy was so loved and that family did not deserve the pain they were going through.

This was better than the alternative though. The Agreste family was in the thick of it, but at least Felix had a life line  _ now _ . Before Adrien, this family was a mess of anxiety and sickness. She could not count the number of nights she stayed up working on the clones with Gabriel. She could never forget the frustration she and Gabriel felt whenever they lost a batch of clones, or whenever their experiments failed.

But along with that, Nathalie would always remember the look of pure relief on Gabriel’s face when their experiments were successful and Adrien was finally created. In all her years working with the man, she could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him cry. The first was the news of Angeline’s remission, the second his wedding day. The third was after Felix’s diagnosis, and the fourth was the successful cloning of his son.

Nathalie watched as Felix put a hand up and his parents backed down. They were still concerned, but when Felix looked up at them with a small smile, they knew he was alright and that the incident was minor. Nathalie and Caline both sighed in relief as well. As bad as things were for the Agreste family, at least they had hope now.

* * *

Nathalie had told Gabriel, and he didn’t have any objections, really, so she brought her old television set to Adrien’s apartment. She had promised him books, but she wondered if maybe he was bored of that. Plus, she wanted to find some way to cheer the boy up. She still wasn’t sure if Adrien had been disappointed with her answer last time, but the thought of it wouldn’t leave her. When she entered the apartment, carrying the thing, Adrien was sitting on the sofa, rereading one of the books she had brought him before. He turned to look at her when she came in and Nathalie was surprised to see his expression – the fact that Adrien had any expression at all was a shock.

She set the TV down on a stand in front of the sofa and turned to Adrien. “I brought you something else instead of books,” she said and studied his reactions. It was rare to see any expression on his face, and Nathalie wanted to note every response the boy had to this situation.

“What is it?” he asked. Nathalie caught the ring of curiosity and smiled to herself. Her plan had worked.

“A television set,” she responded. “You can watch things happening with it. I brought you some DVDs too,” she said. The DVDs were, of course, pre-approved by Gabriel when she had presented the idea to him. Nathalie started to set everything up before showing him how it all worked. As she explained things to him, she noticed how he took in every detail and how he seemed to come alive. He asked her questions and reached out to try inserting a DVD into the player. He pressed buttons and experimented with the volume buttons. Nathalie had to smile to herself as she watched him. The only other time she had seen him act like this was when she first taught him to read, and she had been scared that, perhaps, that spark of personality in him had disappeared.

When Adrien was finished asking her questions, she left him to play with the TV. She went to the little kitchen in the corner and pulled out one of the prepared meals for him from the refrigerator and began preparing lunch for him. She’d heat up dinner for him later before she left. After rummaging around for a bit, she made a mental note to restock his food and then brought his lunch to the coffee table.

“Time to eat,” she said, but Adrien was completely absorbed in the TV. He blinked a few times when he registered that Nathalie was talking to him and then turned to look at her.

“Can I keep watching while I eat?” he asked, and it hit her suddenly that this was the most normal thing that Adrien has ever said to her. For a second, Adrien sounded like a human child. Like any human child that wanted to keep watching their favourite TV show instead of a clone. Usually, all Adrien spoke about was his donations and the procedures and his health – and granted, that was because that’s all Nathalie and Gabriel spoke to him about. But even when she brought him books and toys, Adrien never spoke about the things he read or imagined. The most he had said to her was that he had finished reading the books she brought, but he never said anything about  _ what _ he had read.

Nathalie opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she nodded and Adrien walked over to the couch, taking his plate of vegetables, protein and carbs from her – his meal perfectly balanced – and began to eat, his eyes glued to the screen. Nathalie looked away from him and to the TV, curious as to what captured his attention, and found that it was just a documentary on penguins.

She stayed with him for the afternoon. After the documentary finished, Adrien went through his daily physical and Nathalie wrote up her progress reports on him. However, while these activities usually took place in complete silence, this time, Adrien would make small comments here and there about the documentary he had just seen. It wasn’t that the boy had a particular interest in penguins, but he was enamored by the TV and how he could see things happening on the screen instead of having to imagine the scenes himself like he did with books. He was shy – another part of him that Nathalie didn’t even think existed, much less thought she’d ever see – about it. His voice was quieter than usual, but there was an undeniable ring of curiosity and interest in his voice.

Adrien sounded much more like a boy than he did a clone, and Nathalie wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

* * *

With the donation approaching, Gabriel decided that he would perform the checkups himself today.

Nathalie followed after him to act as an assistant. As the two of them sat in the back of the car, Nathalie summarized Adrien’s progress and Gabriel read over the reports. They arrived at the apartment soon after, and they walked in to see Adrien watching the TV. He had been pretty much glued to the thing since Nathalie got it for him, but the moment the door opened, he turned to face them. So ingrained in him were their procedures.

The moment he saw Gabriel the TV was forgotten. Adrien stood and immediately went to the fourth room and readied himself for the tests as Gabriel and Nathalie prepared their tools. Adrien’s behaviour reverted to what it had always been. Nearly mechanical and emotionless in every move, but when Gabriel inserted the needle into his arm to draw a blood sample, Adrien looked up at the man, and his eyebrows were knitted together just the slightest.

“Why does it hurt?” came the quiet voice. A shiver went down Nathalie’s spine. The more Adrien grew, the more uncanny his voice, looks and mannerisms became. Her eyes immediately scanned Gabriel’s expression. His eyes were wide and a deep frown set on his lips.

But the look disappeared from his face in an instant. When he replied, he was gruff and his voice low. “What does that matter?”

Nathalie narrowed her eyes for a moment. She could tell that Gabriel had been surprised by Adrien but she didn’t think that he would be so cold towards the boy. Adrien frowned. For a second he looked exactly as Felix did, but he resumed his usual blank expression and looked down. “Sorry,” the boy said, his voice quiet.

“Understand, boy.” Gabriel began to say. He drew the blood and pulled the needle out. “Your pain does not matter.”

“Yes sir,” Adrien replied. Gabriel let go of Adrien then and turned away to transfer the blood sample into a test tube. Nathalie bit her lip but pushed her thoughts away. As much as she wanted to call Gabriel out, it wasn’t her place to do so – not while they were here with Adrien in front of them. So she bit her lip and did her job.

She and Gabriel did their work as usual. Nathalie recorded the results and acted as the assistant while Gabriel took the lead and directed Adrien. All throughout the session though, Nathalie couldn’t help but notice that Gabriel was acting a bit rougher with Adrien than usual. He grabbed Adrien’s arm tightly and pulled him onto the scale with more force than necessary. It was the little things that gave away Gabriel’s irritation and discomfort.

When they were finished with their tests, Gabriel instructed Nathalie to tidy up and meet him in the car. Upon hearing this, Adrien’s expression remained the same, but he looked down at his feet. Nathalie did as she was told and before she left, she patted Adrien on the shoulder.

He glanced up at her with big eyes and a small frown. All she could do was give him a sympathetic look. “I’ll see you again tomorrow. Bye Adrien.” She left the apartment and then joined Gabriel in the back seat. The driver started the engine and they were on their way.

Usually, Nathalie and Gabriel would go over schedules or other notes on the way to their next destination, but Gabriel turned to look out the window, and Nathalie mulled over the right words to bring up what had just happened. Gabriel was a good man, but the way he treated Adrien was improper even if the boy was just a clone, and Nathalie couldn’t just let it slide.

Before the silence could last though, Gabriel turned away from the window, shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh. Nathalie pulled herself from her thoughts and opened her mouth to say something but Gabriel seemed to read her mind.

“I’ve miscalculated, Nathalie. I didn’t think he could feel.”

* * *

“I thought I would get to see you more often when I got you this job,” Angeline laughed to herself. She reached across the table and squeezed Nathalie’s hand. “I should talk to Gabe about your hours.”

“That’s not necessary,” Nathalie said. “I like my job.” She smiled and squeezed Angeline’s hand as well before letting go to pick up her tea cup. The two women were sitting on the veranda in the back garden of the Agreste mansion. Gabriel was making some private calls and Nathalie had finished all her assigned tasks for the time being.

“But it is! He works you too hard. Do you even have any days off?”

“Yes, tomorrow.” Nathalie lied. She would be going to the apartment tomorrow to make the final checks on Adrien before his donation next week. She would have the rest of the day off after that, but she was still technically working, and anyway, she had started to spend more and more time watching over Adrien even when it wasn’t strictly necessary. She was growing… fond of him.

“Then why don’t you come visit?” Angeline asked. Nathalie raised an eyebrow at her.

“You just said I should have more time off… and you want me to come to my workplace on my time off?” Nathalie laughed.

Angeline rolled her eyes. “No, I was just saying that we never get to catch up. You’re always working, and god knows what you do on your weekends. Come visit me, unless you’re lying about work and you really are too busy.”

“Aren’t you the one who is too busy?” Nathalie asked. Angeline raised an eyebrow and sipped at her tea. Nathalie’s voice dropped. “I know Felix hasn’t been doing well lately.” The lighthearted smile dropped from Angeline’s face and Nathalie regretted her words immediately. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“No, it’s okay.” Angeline sighed. “He’s not as lucky as me. Remission is always short and even with all of Gabriel’s work, we can only do so much.” This time, Nathalie reached across the table and took her friend’s hand in hers.

Angeline had always been beautiful. Even when they were teenagers, people always told her so. To Nathalie, it seemed that her best friend never went through an awkward stage – she was always radiant… sick, but radiant still. Now, Nathalie couldn’t help but notice how worn Angeline looked. She was still beautiful, but there was a weariness that she could not hide.

“You’re right. I’ve been busy too. It’s not your fault we never get to just… talk.”

“No, no… Look, I’m busy tomorrow, but what about next week Wednesday? I know Gabriel will be at the lab that evening. We could have dinner or something and I’ll stay until he gets back,” Nathalie offered. Angeline smiled and nodded.

“That sounds great, Nat.”

* * *

Everything was ready and Adrien was at peak physical form and health, so there wasn’t much to Nathalie’s job. She prepared his lunch and sat with him while he ate. He watched TV less than he did when she first got it for him, but he still liked to have it on in the background. Nathalie found that Adrien was much more expressive and talkative now. Not that the boy said much, but he would make comments here and there and surprise Nathalie with how  _ human _ he seemed to be – or perhaps “human” wasn’t the right word.

There were certain things that Adrien would do that Nathalie could swear she had seen before. He never used to lick his lips when she brought him his meals, but now he would. Sometimes, even though the meals that Nathalie prepared were bland (nutrition was priority here, not taste), he would finish a meal and tell her that it was delicious.

These were just minor things, but it bothered Nathalie all the same. It wasn’t until she noticed the characters of a sitcom on the TV sitting down to a meal that she realized what was going on.

“Adrien, did you really think that the fish was delicious?” she asked. Adrien looked surprised at her question and shrugged in response.

“Yes?”

Nathalie sighed and sat down on the couch next to the boy. She put an arm on his shoulder. “Adrien; you know it’s okay to say what you really think, right? You don’t have to act like the people you see on TV.”

“Isn’t that how I should act with other people though? There are other people out there right?” He asked. Nathalie blinked. Adrien had never talked about the  _ outside  _ before or shown any curiosity about it… and when did he get the idea that he would ever see the outside?

“Well, yes and no,” Nathalie said. “There are people out there but how you interact with them depends on a lot of different things,” she explained. “There’s no set way to act. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Adrien replied. He seemed troubled and Nathalie patted him on the back.

“If you don’t really get it, or if you ever want to talk to me about it, you can,” she reassured him. “It’s okay not to understand.”

Adrien seemed to mull this over before nodding. “Okay.”

* * *

Music flowed from the record player. The evening had been wonderful. Angeline and Nathalie sat in the parlor with a glass of wine in their hands. They had already emptied the first bottle and were laughing and talking freely. The warm buzz in Nathalie’s head made her smile and she leaned closer toward her friend. She had missed this. Missed spending time with Angeline. For a second she thought back to the late afternoons when the two of them would put on a record and sprawl out on the floor to listen in peace, or, on Angeline’s better days, they would dance around the room, yelling and shouting at the top of their lungs. 

“Remember when we were in high school?”

“How could I forget? That’s when I was diagnosed,” Angeline said. A frown appeared on her face but she lifted her hand and waved at the air, as if to dispel the thought. “But you visited me every day. That made it better.”

Ah, Nathalie looked at her wine and swirled it. A heaviness settled in around them as reality came back to them.

“Sorry, my bad,” Angeline said, the word slurred. She downed her glass and refilled it. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how we used to listen to music together. All those afternoons spent sitting around.” Just as Nathalie said this, the record stopped and silence filled the room. Angeline frowned and jumped to her feet. A splash of wine fell to the ground as she regained her balance, and before any real damage could be done, Nathalie caught her friend and took the wine from her, placing it on the table. “Careful there.”

“I will not stand for silence.”

Nathalie laughed. “You just did,” she snickered as she watched her friend stumble forward.

There was a shelf of old records on one side of the room though Nathalie was sure that the collection was almost purely for show. Angeline had always been a fan of music, but with her hands full with Felix, there was rarely a moment to just sit and listen at her leisure. Angeline ran her hand along the shelf, stopping every now and then to pull out a record. She’d shake her head after looking it over, and with a brief, “no, not that one,” Angeline would move onto the next record. With a sudden “Aha!” and a bright smile, Angeline pulled a record from its sleeve and walked over to the player. She replaced the needle and brass instruments filled the room.

_ ‘Darling, hold me, hold me, hold me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

_ ‘Darling, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. And never, never, never let me go.’ _

‘ _ Lock my heart. Throw away the key. Fill my love. Ecstasy _ .’

Nathalie rolled her eyes as Angeline began to sway to the music. She herself was never one for dancing, but Angeline loved it. She loved dancing to this song especially.

_ ‘Bind my heart with your warm embrace and tell me no one will never take my place.’ _

_ ‘Darling, tell me, tell me, tell me you’ll never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never…’ _

The two women felt warm and buzzed. As the music started to die down, Nathalie chuckled. “God, even when he’s not around, you two are gross,”

Angeline rolled her eyes. “You spend more time than I do with my own husband.”

“Only because of you,” Nathalie retorted. A statement that was doubly true. Yes, Angeline was the reason that Nathalie got her job. But Nathalie only applied to the institute because she wanted to find Angeline a cure. Of course the best option had been to work with a man who wanted to save Angeline just as badly as she did.

Angeline flipped the record over and collapsed back into her seat. “Yes, yes, but you still have my husband. At least I’ll always have our song,” she said with a dreamy sigh and began to hum the tune.

“Please, Gabriel is as in love with you as the day you married. Did you know that song’s his ringtone?”

Angeline waved the statement away. “He’s more in love with his work.”

_ ‘He’s more in love with his family _ ,’ Nathalie wanted to say, but she bit her tongue.

“That’s the way it goes. I’m his home wife, and you’re his work wife.”

“Oh god, I don’t want to be married to him.” Nathalie made a face of pure disgust, “Not in a million years.”

Angeline gasped and placed a hand on her chest. “That’s my husband you’re talking about. How dare you? He’s perfectly loveable.”

“Just like I said. You two are  _ gross, _ ” Nathalie laughed and sipped her wine. Angeline pouted at her defeat and slumped in her seat. “But like you said, at least you’ll always have your song,” Nathalie chuckled, consoling her friend.

“Nathalieeeeeeee, don’t be like my husband. Never let me goooooo,” Angeline jokingly whined, drawling out the words. She grabbed her friend’s hand and smiled up at her. Nathalie sees herself reflected in her best friend’s eyes. Striking green eyes that are hazy with alcohol. Before she can think too much of it, Angeline breaks out into a fit of laughter and Nathalie couldn’t help but smile.

“Never darling, never.”

* * *

The donation had gone well and after putting Adrien to sleep, Gabriel transferred the bone marrow back to the lab at the institute himself. Nathalie was left with a rare evening off. She curled up on her couch, sorting through her recent emails. There were seven emails from just one particular reporter requesting an interview with Gabriel. He was being recognized for his breakthroughs in cloning technology and advancements in healthcare. And rumor had it, he was next in line for a director position at the institute.

But she knew Gabriel wasn’t going to take any interviews. Not now when he still had to take care of Felix. The bone marrow transplant had to happen soon, and though Nathalie had the night off, she knew her boss would still be working away. With a heavy sigh, she sent a quick reply, declining the interview.

With that done, Nathalie readied herself for bed. Things had been stressful lately, but things were finally looking up. The tension had broken. That last evening with Angeline had been refreshing and with the donation over, there was nothing but the transplant left. With a smile, Nathalie climbed under her covers and turned off the light. She would worry about the transplant tomorrow. For now, she would rest, and it was the best night’s sleep Nathalie had had in a long time.

* * *

Gabriel was in surgery now with Felix, but despite that, Nathalie was not with them. She had other things she needed to take care of for Gabriel, and with the phone ringing incessantly, she couldn’t leave her desk. Nathalie had declined the offer just yesterday but the reporter was back at it, calling and leaving messages. Short of physically showing up at the Agreste mansion, this reporter was doing all they could to get in touch with Gabriel. If this kept up, Nathalie would have to block their number, somehow.

With a glance at caller ID, Nathalie lifted the phone from the receiver and slammed it back down without so much as answering it. Two minutes later, it went off again. Another glance at caller ID and Nathalie swore she had this number memorized by now.

“God damn it,” she cursed. Her patience was worn thin. She had other things, other much more important thing to deal with than this pesky reporter.

“Hello, I’m with  _ Le Monde. _ This is -”

“I know who you are. I’m sorry, but M. Agreste is not accepting any interviews at this time. We will not be answering any more of your calls or messages.  _ Good bye. _ ” 

She hung up, and finally, the phone stopped ringing.

* * *

When Nathalie walked into the apartment, she heard a low whimper and the erratic and fast beeping of the heart monitor. “Adrien?” she called out, but there was no response. She dropped her bags on the couch and headed for the bedroom.

Adrien was shaking as he lay on his stomach. His face was turned to the side as he stared unblinkingly at the white walls and sobbed, gasping for breath. A quick look at the monitor confirmed for Nathalie what the beeping was. She grabbed a mask and turned the oxygen on, holding it over his face.

Nathalie was careful and gentle as she took Adrien’s hand in hers. She dropped in front of him, trying to get him to see her, but his gaze was fixed on the walls. He whimpered again and she could see he had been crying. “Adrien? Adrien, I’m here. Try to take deep breaths okay?” She kept her voice low and gentle. “Shh, it’s okay. I need you to calm down.”

Nathalie kept the mask on his face while she reached over and turned up the dial for morphine. It was then that Adrien seemed to snap out of it. He grabbed her arm, tears streaking down his face as he shook his head. She stared at his little hand wrapped around her wrist. “Stop. No. No more,” he choked out, shaking his head vigorously. His pupils were blown wide and he was crying again.

She leaned in and hugged him. “Oh, Adrien.”

“No more. Please, no more,” came his frantic little voice. Nathalie’s heart clenched and she wondered what had set him off.

“Okay Adrien, no more. You can sleep now, you don’t have to do anything but sleep now,” she said, biting back tears. She hugged him harder, and surprised herself when she kissed his forehead. But the gesture seemed to calm Adrien. His breathing steadied itself and he sobbed again.

Nathalie thought back to last night. While she and Gabriel had left him while he was asleep, she wondered if Adrien had woken at all during the night. Did he have panic attacks last night too? Why didn’t Nathalie take better care to ensure his wellbeing? Guilt wracked through her. These thoughts hadn’t even occurred to her during Adrien’s first donation.

“You’ll be okay, Adrien. I’m here now,” she kept repeating to him. She told herself that she would do better. She would spend more time with Adrien during his recovery and talk to Gabriel about getting him full time care. She would help him as best she could, even though in that moment, all Nathalie could do was hold him.

* * *

“If you call one more time, I will block this number from every phone line associated with the institute and M. Agreste.”

“It’s about the apartment in Belleville,” the reporter cuts straight to the point this time. No more introductions, or polite greetings.  _ Shit. _ Nathalie froze for only a second, but she recovered quickly. “You and Mr. Agreste make regular visits there. Does he… have a mistress?”

_ Oh god. Shit.  _ “I didn’t know that  _ Le Monde _ was now a tabloids magazine,” Nathalie retorted, before hanging up. The moment she did so, she realized her mistake. She hadn’t acknowledged what the reporter had said at all, and that was as good as a confirmation.

It was better than the reporter realizing the truth, but...

Nathalie cursed again and called Gabriel. The phone rang twice, and then he answered. “We have a problem.”

* * *

Despite the success of the transplant, and everything else, the news worsened Gabriel’s mood. 

“I’m arranging for a new facility to be set up. We can move… him soon. But if I don’t clear up the issue with the reporter, then it would go to print and Angeline surely think you’re having an affair. If we don’t come up with a cover story, then they’ll find out about Adrien,” Nathalie reiterated. “What do I do?”

Gabriel was quiet for a long time. He was usually so good at hiding his thoughts, but Nathalie could practically see the debate on his face. She knew his exact thoughts and how he weighed the consequences against each other because she had done exactly that before she came to him with the news. She had already come to what she thought was the best decision, but would Gabriel agree with her? The silence and the wait was killing her.

After a moment, Gabriel breathed out a long suffered sigh. He wasn’t happy with either decision, but he had made his choice. “Don’t do a thing.”

Her eyes widened. “But Angeline… you’ll break her heart.”

“She will understand… one day.” But they both knew that she wouldn’t. Not unless Gabriel or Nathalie told her about Adrien. She would never forgive him.

Nathalie swallowed, hard, her voice quiet. “Okay.”

* * *

“Adrien.”

Adrien turned to face Nathalie. It’s been a week and Nathalie doesn’t have the energy to hide her weariness. Besides, she knows she has it easy compared to Adrien. She steps into the room and Adrien watches her approach him.

From the looks of it, Adrien had been crying silently, but he’s not despondent like the last time so it’s a relief. She bends down, leveling herself with him and dabs gently at his face with a tissue. She hates seeing him this way, and she doesn’t understand why it’s happening – of course, she knows it’s for Felix. For Gabriel and for  _ Angeline _ . But this did not happen after the first donation, and she didn’t expect Adrien to resemble Felix so much.

She curses herself because it was such a stupid thing to think. After all, they’re clones.

Adrien sobs, and she sees herself reflected in his watery eyes – green, just like Angeline’s.

“Nathalie, it hurts. It hurts so much,” he cries and she pulls him into a hug. The action is strange. She’s never had this much contact with him before and she’s never really comforted him before but she knows he needs this.

“Shhh, I know,” she pats him gently on the shoulder, and then pulls away. Seeing herself in 

Adrien’s eyes had taken her aback and now she couldn’t quite look him in his eyes. Instead, she takes out a photograph and hands it to him. “You’re doing so well, Adrien.”

“But why does it have to hurt so much?” he asks in Felix’s voice. Nathalie closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She tapped the photograph in his hands, as if to remind herself the reason why. Adrien looks down at the family in the picture as Nathalie begins to explain.

“Look. This is who you are going to save.”

Nathalie forces herself to look at the picture as well. While Adrien takes in the individual faces, Nathalie focuses on just the one. On Angeline. She only looks away to watch Adrien for a reaction. He stares at Felix and Nathalie pats him on the shoulder again. 

“Not just him. You are going to save this whole family.” She forces a smile on her face because that’s all there is to say on the matter.

Adrien doesn’t look up from the photograph, and it’s then that Nathalie takes a moment to check his vitals and the machines. She notices the painkillers wearing off and she turns the dial before helping to ease him back down on the bed.

“Sleep now, Adrien.” She says in a soft voice.

“I don’t want to.”

“But it will help,” Nathalie says to convince him. She doesn’t need to though. She can already see his eyes closing, and his grasp on the photograph loosening. He’s moments from drifting off.

Still, he pleads, “will you be there when I wake up?”

“Yes, of course Adrien,” she replies. She sits in the chair next to the bed and take his hand in hers, taking the photograph before it falls from his hands. Just as she had predicted, it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, but true to her word, she stays there with him.

His breathing slows and evens out, and the only other sound to be heard is the steady beeping of the machines. Seeing him like this, Nathalie feels completely torn, and the business card that sits in her pocket suddenly feels like a million pounds. But she looks down at the photograph again.

“ _ Never darling, never,”  _ she reminds herself. 

* * *

For once, Nathalie is in the office at the institute. She’s sorting through all of Gabriel’s paperwork and compiling the important files for him. They had missed a lot while they had been preoccupied with Adrien and Felix, and she needed to catch up before anyone suspected anything.

The problem was, though the number was now blocked at the Agreste mansion, the phone here was going off the hook. Nathalie swore she was going to strangle this reporter. She picks up the receiver, slams it back down, and then leaves it on. No calls could get through now, but at least Nathalie could have some peace and quiet for a few moments.

Half an hour later, one of the receptionists pops her head through the door into Nathalie’s office. “There’s someone here to see you. I would have rang, but...” she eyes the receiver lying flat on Nathalie’s desk.

“Right, sorry,” Nathalie says, replacing the phone. “Send them in.”

That was her mistake. 

A woman walked in, and the moment she spoke, Nathalie matched the voice to the reporter that had been calling. 

She stood, slamming her hands down on the table. “Get out,” she interrupted the reporter. She clenched her teeth, angry at herself for having been caught off guard. She should have expected a visit. 

“Mlle. Sancoeur. please -”

“I’m calling security,” Nathalie lifted the phone and began to dial the number.

“Look, it’s fine. I’ll leave. But here’s my business card. The article is going to print in three days. Call me if you want to prove me wrong.” Something in their tone irked Nathalie. She glared at the woman before her, but even as security arrived to escort her out, she looked like she had won something.

Nathalie scoffed. She hid her panic well but when the reporter was gone, she fell back in her chair. She’d do as Gabriel instructed her, but she felt defeated.

* * *

Adrien’s recovery was going well now that the panic attacks ceased. Still, Nathalie was wary, and she knew that the boy would fall apart again if he had to face another donation. 

She had visited him in the morning, being extra careful now that she knew there had been people watching this location. It would still be a few weeks before she could relocate Adrien to a new apartment where he’d be safer. During the visit, he seemed normal. Subdued, but slowly becoming the boy she knew him to be. The TV helped to keep him distracted. She had moved it to his bedroom and left it on. 

Now, she arrived at the Agreste mansion. She was early and knew that Gabriel would not be home for another hour. He would still be at the institute, working on his official research.

That left Nathalie time to find Angeline, and she was glad she finally had time to talk to her friend. There was so much going on that she needed a few minutes to just forget it all. She found her friend on the back patio, sipping at tea. Without a word, Nathalie took a seat in the empty chair and her own cup of tea was brought out. 

“You haven’t answered my calls,” Angeline broke the silence. Her voice was more sad than it was angry, and Nathalie’s chest clenches in guilt. “I mean, Gabriel’s told me all about the reporter and everything, but you could have at least called me back.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just… swamped lately.” She sighs and then shakes her head. “Anyway, what did you need to tell me?” Nathalie looks up at Angeline and it’s now that she notices the crease in her friend’s brow. The frown on Angeline’s face tells her that this is about something more than a just few ignored calls.

“Promise me first,” Angeline shifts in her chair, and Nathalie puts down her cup of tea, all her focus on her friend now. “Promise you won’t tell Gabriel.”

Nathalie gave a slow nod. A number of possibilities ran through her head. Was this something about Felix?

“I… I’ve been seeing the doctor again.” She paused, and then spoke again. This time, her voice quieter. ”Gabriel doesn’t know. I.... remission… it’s over…”

“ _ What? _ ”

“They did x-rays,” Angeline’s voice grew quieter and quieter, but her words went off like gongs in Nathalie’s head. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “There’s not a lot of time left for me.”

“No,” Nathalie choked out. She shook her head, trembling. “It can’t be. You’re in remission. The doctor said  _ complete remission _ .”

Angeline’s hand went out and she touched her shoulder. “These things happen. I just. Look, I needed to tell you. I needed to tell someone because I can’t tell  _ him  _ and you can’t either.”

“He’s going to be devastated.”

“Which is why I need time to soften the blow,” Angeline said, her voice sounding… somehow stronger than before. Nathalie looked her friend in the eye, and she could see resolve and acceptance in those green eyes. 

“How long have you known?”

“A month.”

“A whole month?!” Nathalie nearly screamed. She’d been keeping this in the whole time? Nathalie reached up and clasped her friend’s hand in hers. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I would have told you sooner but I wanted to spend some time with you… like we used to before I told you… I want to do the same with Gabriel. Spend one last good day with him and Felix before I tell them both. I need your help with that.”

“Oh, God.” A million thoughts raced through her mind. 

“Gabriel’s too absorbed in his work. I need you to get him away from it. Just for a day. Please.”

Nathalie doesn’t even understand why Angeline’s asking this of her because, of course, yes, she’d do it. But her words are caught in her throat and she’s still reeling from the news. “I - Just… I need a moment to process this.”

Angeline’s face is apologetic, and Nathalie can’t help but think that’s absurd because she didn’t choose this. She hadn’t decided a slow death to make all her loved ones suffer. She hadn’t chosen to break Gabriel’s heart - fuck. 

The article was going to print in two days.

Nathalie throat is dry and she barely gets the words out, but after a bout of silence, she answers, “Yes, of course I’ll help you.”

“Thank you,” Angeline says. “You don’t know what this means to me.” But Nathalie’s sure that she does. “Just,  _ please _ , don’t tell him until after all this.”

Nathalie gives a slow nod, but her chest clenches uncomfortably. There were so many secrets that she kept for the Agreste family and she didn’t know how much longer she could take it. In the back of her mind, she thought of the article, probably being written and printed at  _ La Monde _ this very moment. She grimaces, knowing just how much it’s going to hurt when Angeline sees it. 

Caline steps out onto the patio then. Nathalie does her best to compose herself, even with the bombshells she’s carrying. She’s somewhat surprised at how well Angeline held herself - but of course. She’d been keeping all this to herself for a month. 

“How is Felix doing?” Angeline asks. Caline smiles.

“He wants to have lunch outside again.”

“Is he well enough to do so?”

“Yes, I’d say he’s as well as you are.” Jesus Christ. Nathalie couldn’t help but grimace, and Angeline shot her a look. 

Angeline smiled. “Then let him have lunch with us.” Caline nodded and went back inside to deliver the good news to Felix. Nathalie just stared at her. A second later, Felix came outside all smiles and looking healthier than ever. 

“Thank you,” he said to his mother for letting him enjoy the outdoors. She smiled, and then gave Nathalie another look.  _ He doesn’t know yet. Not a word _ , her eyes seemed to say, and Nathalie nodded. She’d help her have the best last moments with her family…

Knowing what she had to do, her gaze fell on Felix and Nathalie swallowed. This bright boy, so loved. He didn’t deserve what was coming, but this was, in Nathalie’s mind, better than the alternative. And besides, there would always be other donors, right? Adrien had been the fail-safe but Felix had survived before he came along… he could survive again.

With a forced smile, Nathalie excused herself from the table. She returned inside and took out her phone to make a quick call to Gabriel. “You need to come home right now,” she said. “Have lunch with your family. It’s important.”

“Nathalie, you know how busy I am right now. I need to look over the data before the institute publishes its next report - ”

“No, Gabriel. Your wife and son are waiting. I’ll take care of everything else.”

There was a silence on the line and then it must have been something in the way Nathalie said it - or perhaps it was the trust that Gabriel had in Nathalie. The trust that she had built up with him over the years they’ve worked with each other - but Gabriel relented. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Good,” Nathalie said, and then hung up. She looked out the wide french doors and saw Angeline and Felix laughing together. Soon, Gabriel would join the picture and everything would be perfect. 

* * *

It’s not just for Angeline, Nathalie tells herself. It’s for Adrien too. 

But whenever she watched Gabriel work, she started to second guess herself. She was going to ruin all his hard work and she was going to risk Felix’s life too. 

Damn it.

Footsteps approached her table in the cafe, and Nathalie looked up. 

“I’m delighted, but to be honest, I’m surprised you called.”

Nathalie wants to punch the reporter in the face, but she clenches her fist and bites back her anger instead. “You’re the scum of the Earth,” she scowls. She closes her eyes and reminds herself of her reasons. 

Angeline, Adrien… Felix could survive this. Gabriel could never know.

The reporter grins, taking a seat. Instead of acknowledging the insult, she says, “So, how are you going to prove me wrong?” 

Nathalie hesitates because this was a lose-lose situation. No matter what she said, this reporter was going to come out of this meeting with one  _ hell  _ of a story. That thought alone is almost enough to make Nathalie walk away from all of this. She’s that spiteful. But the thought of Angeline thinking that Gabriel didn’t love her was enough to pull her through this. She couldn’t let her best friend die heart broken. 

“Gabriel is not having an affair,” Nathalie says with a breath. 

“Then what is he doing?” This was it. This was the moment she was going to ruin everything. 

“He’s saving his son’s life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think I need attention and validation to live.


	9. The Donation Room, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are two donations, and a death. Marinette finally makes up her mind, and Felix and Adrien meet. Not necessarily in that order. 
> 
> Warnings: Mention of blood. Also, character death. It’s not described. One moment they are there, the next they are not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd again. :c Also, sorry chapters are coming out so infrequently. My life is a mess, and I'm thankful for everyone who has stuck with me so far. You guys are the best <3
> 
> Suggested Listening: [Heart of Chambers by Beach House](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNQ97P0rQk8)

A strange mix of hope and apprehension filled the pit of Nathalie’s stomach as scanned the file again. She shook her head and then looked back up at Gabriel. His expression was a strange mix of happiness and disbelief.

“It’s really him?” Nathalie asked and Gabriel turned to face her. He nodded a few times, as if to convince himself of this too. “But how did you find him? Surely the ministry -”

“What happened in the past was only a minor incident. No one remembers it, not even the ministry of health.” Gabriel said, leaning back in his seat. He threw his copy of the file onto his desk. “It’s a good thing too.”

After Adrien had left their care, there was only so much they could do. Nothing was sufficient. Everything was temporary, and time was running out. Felix had been bedridden for months now, and it was a miracle that he had last this long. Nathalie bit her lower lip, trying to forget everything they had done these last few years to keep him alive… trying to forget the image of Felix, pale and small, during his last operation. All this had been her fault.

Even back then, she had understood that there would be consequences to her actions. She knew that, but it did not assuage her guilt. And now, through some cruel joke of the universe, Adrien had come back to them. No, that wasn’t right. This was the result of Gabriel’s tenacity and his love for his family. That was what had made her efforts futile, and Nathalie winced at the realization that all she had done was increase Felix’s suffering. Why did she even think that she could outsmart Gabriel Agreste?

Nathalie swallowed hard but maintained a neutral expression despite this realization. Gabriel didn’t know, and he could never know what she had done.

“However, there is a problem,” Gabriel said. He folded his hands together and Nathalie closed the file before taking her notepad out, ready to transcribe his requests. “Felix went behind my back and submitted a request to meet his donor. It’s already been processed and approved.”

“If they meet, do you think he’ll figure it out?” Nathalie asked as she made a note to call Adrien’s carer. Perhaps she could convince the carer that this was a bad idea and get the whole thing cancelled – or perhaps, this was exactly what she needed.

“Of course he will, my son’s not stupid,” Gabriel answered.

Nathalie flipped open the file again and looked down at the picture of Adrien. “But he’s grown up now. They look different, even if only slightly. If no one points out the similarities and if I have a chance to contact Adrien first, then perhaps Felix won’t be the wiser.”

“Absolutely not,” Gabriel said without stopping to think it over. He leaned forward, eyes on hers and a frown set on his face. “Deal with this, Nathalie. That’s what you’re here for.”

* * *

 

Against his father’s wishes, Felix had met with every single one of his donors. Nearly all the clones had been imperfect matches with him and their donations had only lengthened his life minimally while shortening theirs drastically. For that sacrifice, he wanted to thank them personally, and get to know them. Usually, he got away with it, but on this occasion his father was being uncharacteristically stubborn. It only spurred Felix on.

Which was why, even though the official request to meet his donor was set for a week from now, Felix had snuck out of the mansion. He knew that if he waited till next week, his father would find some way to cancel or delay the meeting.

Sneaking out wasn’t an easy feat in his condition. Caline had helped him only because she knew she couldn’t stop him, and when they arrived at the hospital, Felix needed to pull status to get to the upper floors of the building. He hated using his father’s name to get what he wanted, but Felix smiled at the irony of it.

As they approached the elevators, Caline slowed her step. Felix turned around to look up at her from his wheelchair, and he smiled at her. “If clones unsettle you, then you can wait down here for me. I have my phone. I can call if there’s a problem.”

Caline sighed, relieved. But she called Felix back as he started to wheel himself forward. “I don’t understand how you can be so nice to… them. Especially with how your father talks of them.”

Felix gave a little shrug. “Clones are not that different from you or me.” Caline looked repulsed. “Besides,” Felix continued. “I’m practically a clone myself, you know. I’ve so many donated organs inside me that I’m not sure there’s anything in there that’s really mine.”

With that, he pressed the button and the elevator opened. He wheeled into the lift and turned around, catching sight of Caline’s expression before the door closed. She was thoroughly disgusted. Felix shrugged it off. As much as it bothered him, now was not the time to stop and chat with Caline about clone equality. He had to meet his donor before his father realized he was missing and sent Nathalie after him. Besides, not many of Felix’s donors were perfect matches, and he was curious to meet this clone.

He arrived at the fifth floor and exited the lift. The hall was mostly empty, save for a gurney pushed to the side. The signs told him that the nurse’s desk was straight ahead but he didn’t want to be seen. Instead, he turned left, reading off the nameplates and room numbers of the residents until he found the one he was looking for.

The door was closed, and Felix took the moment to prepare himself. He was always nervous when meeting his donors. Despite his upbringing, he felt guilty and ashamed.

Before he was ready, however, the door opened, and a woman stepped out. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and she had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. For a second, Felix had thought that it was Nathalie, but this woman was much younger, and after a second look, the only thing they had in common was the colour of their hair and eyes. This woman’s face was warmer. She looked kind.

Upon seeing Felix, however, the woman gasped and she took a step back. She glanced over her shoulder into the room and then back at Felix before hurriedly closing the door.

“You’re -” she cut off, her hand flying up to her mouth.

Felix was confused. Did she know that he was the organ recipient? How did she know?

“You can’t be here right now,” the woman said to him. She was panicking and Felix frowned.

“Why not? Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, it’s just  _ you _ can’t be here. Not yet,” the woman said. Something in her tone annoyed him.

Without answering him, she stepped behind him and grabbed the handles on the back of his chair, pushing him away from the room. “Hey! What are you doing?” he yelled, glaring at the woman over his shoulder. He would have grabbed his wheels and halted all motion, but she was pushing him too fast, he’d hurt his hands if he did that, and in any case, this whole excursion was starting to take its toll on him. He’d been out of bed too long, and he was tired and worn.

Still, Felix protested and demanded answers from the woman. He hated that he was powerless to stop her and he grabbed his phone from his pocket, ready to call Caline for help. Seeing the phone in his hand, the woman made a sharp turn around a corner and pushed him into an empty waiting room. She was panting, and Felix made to wheel himself out of the room and away from this crazy woman. “Wait,” she said, out of breath. “We need to talk.”

“No we don’t. I have my own business to attend to,” Felix retorted.

“I’m Adrien’s carer,” she shouted after him, and Felix groaned. Damn it, he’d have to go through her to get to him. Felix spun his wheelchair around. “My name is Marinette. You’re the one who put in a request to see Adrien, aren’t you? Felix Agreste?”

Felix nodded. “How do you know that?” He looked over Marinette again with a critical eye. He didn’t like how she was deciding how to proceed with everything and he especially didn’t like how she seemed to know all about him when he knew nothing of her or Adrien. He was getting caught up in her pace and he didn’t like that at all.

“Adrien’s told me about you,” she replied, her voice bitter. She frowned at him, and Felix narrowed his eyes on her. Now she was being plain rude, and Felix took offense.

“Liar,” he said. How could Adrien know anything about him when they’d never met?

“You’re Gabriel Agreste’s son. You were born with your illness and you inherited it from your mother. You’ve needed bone marrow donations since you were about seven.”

Those were all things in his medical file – something that she shouldn’t have had access to, even if Adrien was his donor. A chill went down Felix’s spine, and he glared at her again. “How do you know that?”

“I told you,” she said, her tone measured and controlled. It made Felix dislike her even more. “Adrien told me.”

“How could Adrien know me? I’ve never met him before.”

“That’s exactly why you can’t meet him right now. He’s not ready to see you yet. He has to… prepare.”

“Prepare? Look, I don’t care if you’re his carer or not, but I’m going to see Adrien,” Felix said.

“No, you don’t understand.” Marinette hesitated and squeezed her eyes shut, “He’s… he’s your clone.”

“What?” Had he misheard her?

“You’re his original,” she pinched the bridge of her nose and her voice went quiet. “You don’t know Adrien, but he knows all about you.” Marinette opened her eyes again and bit her lower lip.

Felix’s mouth fell open in surprise. “That’s impossible,” Felix shook his head. “No way.” This was something right out of a scifi novel. The very idea that he had a  _ clone _ and that he had been kept in the dark about it unnerved him.

Marinette shook her head. “You’ll believe me once you see his face,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a photograph. “We took that one on a trip recently,” she said as she handed it to him. Felix took it from her and stared down at blond boy in the picture. His green eyes, so alike his own.

He nearly dropped the photograph, but Marinette caught it in time and folded it back into her pocket.

Marinette sighed. “There’s a lot we need to talk about,” she said before she pulled up a chair.

* * *

 

It had been a week since Marinette talked to Felix, and she received notice that the meeting would be canceled. Even though Adrien had spent a week preparing himself mentally to meet his original, it was all for naught. The notice was so abrupt, that Marinette wondered if this was maybe why Felix had shown up unannounced the week prior. After explaining Adrien’s story to Felix though, he seemed to have understood. He had told Marinette that he needed to think everything over and after they exchanged numbers, he said he would call her. Perhaps, after mulling it over, Felix had decided that cancelling the meeting was the best course of action. But he hadn’t called to tell Marinette anything, and he had seemed so eager to meet Adrien before… so then… why the silence and why the sudden cancellation? None of this made sense.

Marinette knocked on Adrien’s door, and he looked up from his sketchbook. He didn’t draw anymore, but he had been flipping through his old sketches and paintings. “Looks like the meeting’s been canceled,” she said, walking towards him and handing him the notice. Adrien took the card from her and read it over before leaning back against the headboard. “How do you feel?” she asked him.

Adrien sighed. “I honestly don’t know if I’m relieved or frustrated.”

Marinette sat on the edge of the bed, and took the sketchbook from his hands. “He was really shocked when I showed him a picture of you and told him everything.” She paused for a moment to gage his expression. “All these years, he had no idea. He said his father never told him anything and that when he was a child he just assumed that the bone marrow came from the regular donors… not from a clone specifically made for him.” When Adrien didn’t say anything, Marinette placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know. It would be easier if I could meet him and talk to him. Hear for myself what he has to say,” Adrien replied. “But… I don’t think I can blame him for any of this. It’s not his fault he’s sick, and if he’s telling the truth, then it’s not like he was the one who kept me locked away all those years.”

Marinette nodded silently, unsure of what to say. After everything Adrien had told her, she wanted to stop the meeting between him and Felix, but at the same time, it seemed that Adrien wanted some kind of closure with his past. They talked about the issue and in the end, Marinette decided to stand by Adrien’s decision. As much as the meeting could potentially hurt him, she wanted to be supportive as well.

Adrien pushed himself up on the bed and leaned against Marinette. He closed his eyes, comforting himself with Marinette’s presence. “I’m just disappointed. I… really wanted to meet him,” Adrien said after a moment. He put an arm around Marinette and she reached up to squeeze his hand.

“Maybe you’ll meet him in the future. After all, there’s still the donation. He could very well put in a request to see you afterwards.”

“I doubt it,” Adrien replied. “I think he wanted to meet me, but something got in the way.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette pulled away from the hug to look at Adrien properly. He shrugged.

“I mean, I know what Gabriel Agreste is like, and if he’s as strict with Felix as he was with me, then he was probably the reason this meeting was canceled.” He made a face, as if it physically pained him to be saying the man’s name for the first time. Marinette leaned closer to Adrien and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Living in that apartment was not easy… although, some things made it bearable.”

Marinette looked up at Adrien. “The woman you told me about.”

“Yes, Nathalie. I wonder what happened to her after I left.” Adrien shrugs again. “Not that it matters. I’m just curious.”

“I suppose these are things that Felix would know.”

“Perhaps.”

“Then maybe this meeting should happen after all,” Marinette said. Adrien needed closure, and this Nathalie seemed like someone important to Adrien. As much as Marinette was afraid for Adrien, it was all the more reason for them to stand their ground and fight for this meeting.  She pulled away from Adrien to reach into her bag. “I can call him and talk to him. If he agrees, we can skip procedure and arrange something outside of the hospital.”

Adrien furrows his brow. “You didn't tell me you had his number.”

“Sorry,” Marinette is sheepish. “I didn’t think that I'd need to call him. He had mine and I thought he was going to call me first.”

Adrien frowns, but he forgives her. He’s anxious as she dials the number and puts the phone on speaker. He can feel his agitation growing with each ring and he grabs Marinette’s hand for support.

“Hello?” a woman answers on the fourth ring.

“Hi, may I speak to Fel-”

“Nathalie?” Adrien blurts out.

“Who is this?” Neither Adrien nor Marinette answer. They stare at each other, trying to figure out what to do or say. “Hello? Who is this?” she repeats.

Adrien stutters. “Nathalie. I-it’s me.” He pauses for a second. “You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“What are you talking abo -” she cuts herself off and they hear a sharp intake of breath over the phone. Her voice goes quiet and shaky. “No. No, I wasn’t.”

Marinette looks up to see Adrien crying. But there’s a smile on his face as he exhales. “Hi Nathalie.” His voice is shaky too. “Can I talk to Felix?”

“I can’t let you. I’m the one who withdrew the request.”

“But you know that this is important, right? Adrien and Felix need to see each other,” Marinette butts in. For a moment, no one says anything. Marinette holds her breath as she waits for a response and Adrien’s grip on Marinette tightens.

“I’m sorry, Adrien. Good bye,” and that’s all that’s said before she hangs up.

* * *

 

Bridgette parks her car in the hospital parking lot and grabs her things. Marinette had called her last week, asking if she’d like to meet Adrien and Alya, and Bridgette was more than eager to. She wanted to know more about these people in Marinette’s life. She wanted to know more about clones and about the life that she had almost led. She walks into the hospital and finds Marinette waiting for her in the lobby. Her sister looks tired, but perks up at the sight of her.

“Hey,” Marinette greets her. She smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ditto.” Bridgette returns the smile. “So, where are they?”

“In the courtyard. I couldn’t get you clearance to go upstairs so I brought them down.”

“Cool, cool,” Bridgette says, and follows as Marinette leads the way. The courtyard is mostly empty when they get there. Marinette had talked to some of the other carers and asked for privacy. They understood, and complied, though Bridgette could see people sneaking glances through the windows. She felt a little self-conscious being the center of so much attention.

She saw Adrien and Alya right away. They sat at a bench and waved as they saw Marinette and Bridgette approaching. Bridgette waved back. When she and Marinette reached them, Marinette kissed Adrien on the cheek and Bridgette held out a box of eclairs and other sweet treats.

“Hi,” Bridgette started, a little nervous to be meeting these two. “I brought these from my bakery for you,” she said. Alya took the box, delighted as she opened it and found an assortment of macaroons.

“Hey, I’m Alya, and  _ thank you _ for the sweets,” was all she said before she plucked a macaroon out of the box

“And I’m Adrien.” He holds out a hand to shake Bridgette’s and she accepts it. She’s struck by the vividness of his green eyes, and it seemed he was stunned by how similar she looked to Marinette. They both give a nervous little laugh, embarrassed that they had caught one another staring. “Sorry, it’s just. Wow,” he gestures between her and Marinette. Marinette rolls her eyes and elbows him in the side. “What? You said you threw up when you met her for the first time. I’m allowed to be a little shocked,” Adrien defends himself.

Bridgette laughs. She can already see the closeness between the couple in the way that they communicate through brief touches – a hand on the shoulder, a light squeeze when they hold hands, and the quick peck on the cheek or lips when they greet each other.

“No, I threw up when she told me about the other stuff, not when I met her,” Marinette corrected him. Adrien just smiles apologetically, and Bridgette can immediately see why Marinette was so attracted to him. His smile was dazzling and she lost herself in it for a second.

There’s a flash of light and Bridgette is momentarily stunned. She blinks it away, eyes regaining focus as she realizes that Alya’s just taken a photo of the scene.

“Hey!” Marinette chides her friend and Alya’s smirking.

“What? I wanted to save the moment,” Alya said, laughing. Marinette reaches for the camera but Alya keeps it out of reach. They all tease each other but it’s playful, and in a way, it’s loving too. There’s a twinge of jealousy, but Bridgette waves it away. She had ended up with the better lot in life, but Marinette had gained invaluable friends.

Alya snapped a few more shots, much to Marinette’s annoyance, though Bridgette didn’t mind.

“You gotta cut me some slack, Marinette. My donation’s coming up,” Alya said.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You keep using that as an excuse. And if your donation is coming up,” Marinette snatches the box of sweets from Alya, “then I guess you can’t have these. They’re bad for you.”

Alya looks appalled and Bridgette and Adrien laugh.

“Are they always like this?” Bridgette asks.

“Nah, more often it’s Alya who’s chiding Marinette, even though Marinette’s our carer,” Adrien replies.

It’s then that the box of sweets is dropped into Bridgette’s lap. She looks up to see Alya running after Marinette and she laughs. Adrien takes a cookie from the box, laughing with Bridgette. Marinette had invaluable friends indeed.

“So you’re Madame Sabine’s daughter?” Adrien asks. Bridgette nods. “How is she? She was always my favourite guardian.”

“She’s better these days. She’s been thinking a lot about Francoise Dupont though, and I want to tell her that I’ve found Marinette. But I won’t. Not until Marinette says she’s ready to see her.”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “You think Marinette will want to see Madame Sabine?”

“Yeah. She’s just not ready yet. She’s probably getting over the shock of meeting me still.”

“You sound like you know Marinette really well.”

“I feel like I do. I mean, we’re still getting to know each other, but we’re… kindred spirits. And I don’t mean we’re biologically similar so we’re probably going to be alike in personality as well.” Bridgette pauses when she sees Marinette stumble and nearly trip. She catches herself though, and manages to escape from Alya. “She’s her own person. For one, she’s more outgoing than I am.”

“So then how do you know she’s going to want to see Madame Sabine?”

Bridgette shrugs. “She told me she spent years looking for me. She’s curious about where she came from, so she’s going to want to talk to mom about it eventually.” Bridgette looks away from the chase to gage Adrien’s reaction. His eyes are still on Marinette and he’s helpless to keep the love he feels for her off his face. “I mean, I would be curious too, wouldn’t you?”

Adrien looks away from the chase at that moment. His eyes meet Bridgette’s. “No, I already know where I came from.”

There’s a sadness in his voice that makes Bridgette want to reach out and touch him. To comfort him. But the others return from their little game, laughing and out of breath and the moment is gone. Still, Bridgette can’t help but feel that there’s something about Adrien that just pulls her in.

“Had fun?” Adrien teases the two girls. Alya steals another macaroon from the box, and Marinette chastises her.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Bridgette giggles, and takes out an eclair.

The sky is clear and the four of them take the moment to enjoy the good weather. It’s a beautiful day, and Bridgette wonders if everyday is like this for the clones. From what Marinette’s told her, this would be a rare, happy moment, and it saddens her that they don't get more days like this.

“So,” Marinette says after a long while. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Bridgette asks, finishing her eclair.

“Do you happen to know anything about the Agreste family?”

Bridgette nods. She takes a moment to look around at the clones. All three of them had tensed up at the mention of the Agrestes. Adrien especially. “They’re practically celebrities, but what about them?”

“For one, who are they?” Alya asks.

“Well, they’re rich. Gabriel Agreste is one of the head directors of the cloning research institute. Every few years they come out with articles about their research and breakthroughs. They were one of the forerunners in the whole cloning thing so he made a lot of money from all of that.”

At that, Adrien’s eyes widen a bit. “I knew he was important... powerful even, but I didn’t…” he trails off, and Marinette squeezes his hand. “What else do you know about him? Or the institute?”

“About Gabriel? Not a lot. Just that he started his research and joined the institute to save his wife. He had a lot of breakthroughs and then became one of the directors. At the time, it all worked, but his wife passed away a few years ago.”

“And his son?” Adrien pressed.

Bridgette shrugged. “He’s led a sheltered life. Gabriel does his best to keep his son out of the spot light. I remember seeing a few pictures of him in the news when his mother passed away, but that's was it.” Bridgette furrowed her brow, a thought coming to her as she talked about Agreste junior and looked at Adrien.

He slumped back, disappointed. “I see.”

“I mean, it’s not unusual for someone to keep their personal life private… why the interest? I mean, aside from the obvious. Clone; cloning institute.” Bridgette gestured vaguely. She looked away from him to give Marinette a glance.

“That’s ah… a long story,” Marinette says. She looks to Adrien and he nods to her. Bridgette looks at Alya, confused.

“Not my story to tell,” Alya shrugs.

“It’s alright, I trust you,” Adrien says. He sighs. Bridgette can’t help but be caught in those green eyes again. “I’m a clone of Gabriel’s son.”

“What?” Bridgette’s eyes widen. The thought clicks in her head. “Wait, is that what you meant before?”

“It’s a really, really long story, but I want to get in touch with him. He came by two weeks ago, but we haven’t heard from him since,” Adrien answered. Marinette nodded.

“I… I don’t know how I could help you,” Bridgette said after a moment. “I mean, any non-clone is allowed to visit the institute and seek treatment and inquire about its services, but I don't know how I could put you in touch with one of its head directors.”

“That’s alright,” Marinette said. “At least we know who Gabriel is now.”

“Do you want me to ask mom? She went to the institute when she wanted to have kids.”

The three of them thought the proposal over and Marinette nodded. “If you could, that’d be really helpful.”

“I’m just glad that I can help at all,” Bridgette smiled. “Actually, speaking of mom…”

Marinette looked away. “I still haven’t made up my mind yet. Did you tell her about me?”

Bridgette shook her head. “No. I won’t unless you say I can.”

“Thanks. You’re the best, Bridgette.”

* * *

It was a terrible day.

Marinette had hardly slept the night before, and when she arrived at the hospital that morning, she looked tired and worn. Adrien tried to keep his spirits up for her, but there was no hiding his nervousness, and his shallow breathing. Marinette, in turn, tried to talk him down from his panic attacks, but there was only so much she could do once the nurses came in to put him under. 

Marinette held his hand the entire time, whispering to him words of comfort and promises to be with him. She repeated the same words that every carer spoke to their donors, “it’s an honor. You’re nearly there. We’ve spent our whole lives preparing for this moment. You’re nearly complete.”

She went as far as she could and then entered the room adjacent to the donation room. There, through the large, glass window, she and Adrien tried to smile at each other until the drugs were too much and Adrien fell unconscious. The donation started immediately after that, and though, as his carer, Marinette was welcome to stay and watch, she opted to leave and go to Alya’s room. It was much better to have company than to have to sit through the donation and watch it alone.

She hated herself for being weak and not being able to stay with Adrien. For Chloé she had been prepared to stay with her through the whole thing, and yet, the very thought of seeing Adrien in that state – unconscious on the table while doctors took from him what they needed – rattled her to her core. It was only a bone marrow donation, and he wouldn’t be splayed out and cut open (not like Chloé would have been), but the image of him curled up on his side (as if he was trying to close himself off from the world) made her chest heave and the world spin.

He would live through this, but god did it hurt her to know that he was in pain.

Alya held Marinette’s hand, and she talked about the photos from the trip. She talked about almost anything else besides donations and Adrien, but there was little she could do to distract Marinette from her worries. Every now and then, Marinette would pick up her phone and redial Felix’s number just as she had done for days now. Undoubtedly, she would get the busy tone, a sure sign that her number had been blocked. Sometimes, she would call Bridgette, but there had been no luck on her end. Madame Sabine had no connections to the institute beyond her business with them when she had Bridgette.

Seeing that Marinette’s mind was preoccupied with other things, Alya stopped talking midsentence and sighed. “So there’s no chance of seeing Felix again or meeting Nathalie?”

“None. The hospital will take care of bringing the bone marrow to Felix, just like every other donation, and Bridgette has no leads. I even tried calling Headmaster Tikki and Plagg. No luck with them either,” Marinette dropped her phone into her bag. It was futile, but already she was itching to pick it back up and call again.  _ Maybe this time, they’ll pick up – _

The phone rang, and both girls jumped. Marinette reached into her bag and dug out her phone again, answering it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Marinette!” Rose’s cheery voice came through the speaker, and Marinette exhaled. She was definitely disappointed, but she kept it hidden.

“Hi Rose,” Marinette said for Alya’s benefit. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. I know today is Adrien’s… you know. I wanted to check on how you were doing.”

“I’m alright. Alya’s keeping me company. Hold on a second,” Marinette answered. She pulled the phone away from her ear and handed it to Alya.

“Hi Rose,” Alya answered. She received a hello and a cheery giggle in response. The two girls chatted for a minute while Marinette sighed again. Damn it. How could she get in touch with Felix?

“Let me hand you back to Marinette,” Alya answered. She gave the phone back and made a gesture to shoo Marinette away.

“Hey Mari? There’s actually something I need to talk to you about, if that’s okay,” Rose said.

Marinette nodded, though Rose couldn’t see. “Of course, what is it?”

“You see, Juleka and I… we’re a couple.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide and she broke out into a smile. This was the first good thing that had happened all week. “Oh my god. Congratulations! Tell Juleka I’m happy for the two of you.”

“Thank you. I… this is difficult to ask, but Adrien told me about the deferrals before he transferred to Paris, and I was wondering if you could tell me more about it.” Rose said. “It would mean the world to me if you could.”

Her heart dropped, and Marinette’s mouth went dry.

“I can come up to Paris to talk about it with you. I have your address and everything. Bring Adrien. I mean, after he recovers. I’ll even bring Juleka. She said she wants to see Paris, and we can even make it a double date.” Her voice was as chipper as ever but Rose started to ramble in her nervousness at Marinette’s silence.

“Rose, I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette finally got out. She looked to Alya for help, and Alya raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently about what was going on. “Adrien and I applied and we didn’t get it.”

Alya’s jaw dropped open, a horrified look on her face as she pieced together the situation.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Rose stopped rambling. “But if you could just tell me Headmaster Tikki’s address and -”

“No, Rose. That’s not the problem,” Marinette’s chest ached. She felt the heartbreak all over again. “There aren’t any deferrals. There never have been.”

Echoing Headmaster Tikki’s words made her empty inside. There was silence. And then, “what?” All trace of cheeriness disappeared from Rose’s voice.

Marinette tried to take a deep breath, but she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I wish there was a better way to put it.” Alya reached out and pulled Marinette to her, hugging her tightly as she began to cry.

“I… I don’t understand.”

Alya took the phone from Marinette and sighed. “Rose, they didn’t get the deferral because it doesn’t exist.”

“But Juleka and I were going to… we were going to have four more years together. We were going to travel France. See the world. We were… we were…” she trailed off.

“I wish I could help you,” Alya said. “If there’s anything, call again, but right now I need to look after Marinette.” She hung up and put the phone down. Marinette cried onto Alya’s shoulder and she patted her friend on the back, doing her best to comfort her. And she thought,  _ ‘God, what a terrible, terrible day today is.’ _

* * *

 

It’s while Adrien is still in recovery that Felix finally calls. Adrien had just fallen asleep when the phone rang. Marinette left the room and looked at caller ID. It’s then that she realized who it was and answered immediately.

“I haven’t heard from you since I met you.” Marinette says, skipping the greetings and pleasantries. “What happened?”

“My father. Now you get why it was so important that I met Adrien then,” Felix replies. The unspoken I-told-you-so hangs in the air, and Marinette groans.

“But you know why I couldn’t let you see him,” Marinette says.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marinette can practically hear the frown in his voice. “Look, I don’t have much time left, but I think I can sneak out again. I won’t be able to make it to the hospital though. My dad’s keeping tabs on me… and you. He probably has your number flagged so I had to make this call from a payphone.”

“Okay. So then, what’s the plan?” Marinette asked. “Because Adrien’s just finished his donation yesterday and he can’t exactly walk right now.”

“That’s fine. I won’t be able to either. And I don’t just mean the wheelchair.” Felix pauses for a second. “I have to get over my operation too.”

“Oh,” Marinette blinks. Somehow she’d forgotten that there was someone else on the other side of all this. Donations had always been the final step in the process for clones. She never realized it was just the first step towards a transplant and the beginning of a new life for non-clones. “Then… how do I know when to meet you? How are we going to keep in touch?”

“Do you have another number I can call? One that I wouldn’t be able to trace back to you.”

“Actually,” Marinette digs out her pocket book and flips to Bridgette’s number. She reads it out to Felix and he reads it back to her. “Call that when you’re better. Adrien should be fine then as well.”

“You’re sure this number is safe?”

“Yes. It’s not mine. It’s… a friend’s,” Marinette explains. “And she’s not a clone or anything, so no one would know. Just ask for Bridgette.”

“Great. I’ll be in touch.”

* * *

Alya woke up bright and early. As per usual, she washed up and walked to the courtyard for some fresh air and exercise. Often times, she brought her camera. There wasn’t much to photograph except the birds, but she liked to hear the click of the shutter. Sometimes, she’d take pictures of the nurses and doctors as they went about their business. The friendly ones, anyway.

After about an hour or so of this, she’d return to her room and wait for her breakfast to arrive. She and Adrien took turns going to each other’s rooms during meal times. While Adrien was in recovery, Alya would go to his room, but now that Adrien was allowed to leave his room without the wheelchair again, he would go to hers. The two of them liked to talk as they ate, and their conversations frequently lasted well after breakfast. 

Today, Alya showed Adrien an album she had made. It was a collection of her most precious memories, and Adrien marvelled as he flipped through it. Other times though, the two of them would talk about the trip to Calais or about the pictures that Alya had taken that morning. Sometimes, they even reminisced about their time at Francoise Dupont. Alya would talk about what she and Marinette were always up to; the games they played and the stories they made up. Adrien would tell Alya about all the times he’d been curious about their little world and how much he had wanted to talk to the girls then. These talks always ended with the agreement that, if it hadn’t been for misunderstanding between him and Marinette, they would have been good friends.

Sometime after the nurses had come to collect their dishes and dispose of the trash, Alya and Adrien would go down to the common room and join the other donors. There were always board games going, and little groups gossiping about whose donations were coming up and who had completed. Depending on the day, the two of them would play chess or watch TV. Other times, they listened to the other clones talk about their schools and their halfway houses. Their little clone community meant that someone always knew someone else. The degrees of separation were not far. In fact, there was a donor at the hospital that had been in the same halfway house as Nino, Sabrina and Max. They weren’t familiar with the Francoise Dupont students, but knowing that there was someone who knew them was a comfort to Alya and Adrien.

Sometime before lunch the donors would starts leaving the common room and return to their own rooms. Carers often came around this time unless there was a particular reason for them to come earlier or later. It was then that Alya would go back upstairs. Adrien sometimes lingered, but only because Marinette always visited him second.

Alya would eat her lunch in peace before Marinette arrived. She always had a lighter meal because she knew that whatever Marinette brought would taste a million times better than what the hospital had to offer. To hell with balanced and nutritious meals.

But recently, and this time was no exception, Marinette brought fresh fruit instead. An upcoming donation meant less leniency when it came to health and diet. As Marinette set a plate of peeled oranges in front of Alya, she pouted.

“I like Bridgette better. She brings me macaroons.” Marinette only rolls her eyes and checks over Alya’s charts. They bicker back and forth.

“Just because I’ve been busy dealing with Felix and Adrien doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten that I’m your carer, Alya,” Marinette shoots back.

“But you’re also my best friend and friends are nice and break rules for each other sometimes,” Alya pleaded. She tried her best impression of a puppy but it had no effect on Marinette.

Marinette tsked her friend. “Nuh uh. Not a month and a half away from your donation they don’t.”

With that, the debate would end. All Alya could do was snap pictures of her friend to annoy her, but the petty revenge was nothing compared to the way Alya’s stomach churned at the thought of her donation. She didn’t tell Marinette about it, but the fact that Marinette kept counting down to it made her feel worse.

“Hey Mari, you're still going to do what I asked you to, right?”

Marinette would look up from her carer work and their eyes would meet. Any playfulness from their banter would disappear, and her voice would take on a serious tone. “Of course, Alya. A promise is a promise.” The reassurance always made Alya feel better about everything.

Once Marinette finished checking over everything the two girls would go down to the courtyard or walk up and down the halls of the hospital. Rarely would Alya want to stay in her room. These walks were always the last part of Marinette’s time with Alya. After that, she’d go look after Adrien. Every now and then, Marinette and Adrien would invite Alya to join them. The three liked to spend time together.

It was usually dinner time when Marinette went to check on Adrien, so Alya would have her meal and then join the other donors in the common room again, or go to the courtyard. Sometimes, if the doctors wanted to do their own checks on the donors, then Alya would go to their examination rooms. With the upcoming donation, Alya found herself spending the evening there more often. If she had a nice doctor, Alya would bring her camera and take shots of them at work. After that, she’d head back to her own room. If she passed by Adrien’s room on the way, she’d check in on him and Marinette.

After that, it wouldn’t be long before Marinette had to go. She’d say goodbye to both of them before leaving, and then Alya would go to bed at a reasonable hour to reset and start the cycle again.

* * *

 

Bridgette was used to lying to her parents. When she wasn’t there to prep the raspberries for the pies the night before they were to bake, she told her dad that she had forgotten. When a whole batch of croissants were burnt because they’d been in the oven too long, she told them she had been out for an errand that took longer than expected. They believed these lies because she had never lied to them before. So when a boy called and her mom answered, all she had to say was that he was her new boyfriend.

She quickly took the phone from her mom and ran up to her room. She’d been waiting for this call since Marinette told her that Felix Agreste had her number (she had freaked out a little), and she had planned out everything she was going to say - except that all of that went out the window. She blanked. And when she was finally alone and had the chance to speak, nothing came out.

“I, uh… hi,” was all she managed.

“Is this Bridgette?” Felix said. Bridgette blinked.

“Yes. Hi, yes, that’s me,” she answered, internally kicking herself for being star struck over the phone. She couldn’t help it. The Agrestes were famous. The Agrestes were probably the reason why she was even alive. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and focus. But in the back of her mind, she vaguely registered how alike his voice was to Adrien’s.

“I’m your boyfriend then?” he asked, a hint of playfulness to his voice. Bridgette groaned, kicking herself again.

On habit, she hides her flustered face in her hands, even though he can’t see her. The realization makes her even redder. “You overheard that? Sorry, I needed an excuse.”

“I’m only teasing,” he chuckles and her breath nearly catches. “So, down to business _. _ ”

“Yes,” Bridgette says, finally getting herself to focus. “Mari’s busy looking after another one of her donors, but after that, everything will be fine.”

“When will that be?”

“Two weeks from now.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“I’ve talked to them, and we’re going to hang out at a cafe. I can text you the address?”

“Excellent,” he replies. “And thanks for… setting this up.”

The blush returns to her face. “No problem.”

* * *

 

Marinette waits in their usual spot. Impatient, she had already ordered for herself and Bridgette. Just as their coffees arrive at the table, Bridgette walks in, and she spots Marinette. The sisters smile at each other in greeting.

“So Felix called last week,” Bridgette starts. “I told him you’ll be free after Alya’s donation and I sent him the cafe address.”

“Thank you so much for all of this,” Marinette says. Bridgette takes a seat and blows at her coffee to cool it down. “You’re amazing.”

“I’m amazing? You’ve met Felix Agreste in person. You gave him my number.”

“Is that supposed to be impressive?” Marinette raises an eyebrow.

Bridgette nods, “I told you, the Agrestes are pretty much celebrities.”

But the concept is lost on Marinette. She knows that there are famous people, and she knows that that is something to be in awe of, but she doesn’t really understand. Marinette nods slowly, and then takes a sip from her coffee.

“Hey, was it that different when you were growing up?”

“What do you mean?” Marinette asks.

“Did you guys watch TV too? I don’t know, have crushes on celebrities? Stuff like that.”

“Not really. I mean, we had these old movies that we used to watch in black and white, but we didn’t really have TV until we left Francoise and went to the cottages. Even then, there was only one TV in the den, and everyone watched these terrible sitcoms on it. I never stuck around for that,” Marinette explained. “What was it like for you?”

Bridgette shrugs. “We have the media. Everyone has a TV and we grew up watching whatever show we liked, not just sitcoms. I guess I’m just used to having celebrities everywhere. Like, I’m not saying I follow that stuff religiously… I’m just more aware, I suppose.”

Marinette nodded and then leaned back in her seat. “Little things make all the difference, don’t they?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about originals and what not. Like, with Adrien and Felix, Felix needs Adrien to be here. But we know that Felix had to be there first for Adrien to even exist. One of them came first even though they kind of rely on each other to exist. With us, it’s… different.”

“You mean, how we’re sisters but I could have been you, and you could have been me?” Bridgette finished.

“Yeah,” Marinette goes quiet, using her drink as an excuse not to talk. Bridgette fidgets for a second before looking out the window.

“You know, I haven’t really pushed this with you because I didn’t want to make you do something you didn’t want to, but have you thought about meeting mom? And dad too? I’ve kind of been dying to show you the boulangerie too.” When Marinette didn’t answer, Bridgette let out a little gasp. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive or anything. I don’t mean to be like, this is what you could have had but it’s mine. I just… you seem like you want to know, and you haven’t given me an answer, so…”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. And I’ll admit. I’m curious.” Marinette looked up. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to meet your parents. Like, what’s that going to be like? What am I supposed to say to them?”

“I think we already went through that. As long as you don’t throw up, it’ll be fine… and mom might cry a lot. Don’t… worry if she does.” Bridgette offered. “Nothing’s going to be worse than when we first met.”

“I suppose.”

“You still don’t sound sold on this,” Bridgette said. She looked out the window. Maybe it had been a bad idea to bring this up. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You just tell me if and when you’re ready.” Bridgette downed the rest of her coffee and then stood. “I’ll talk to you later? I have to get home before mom and dad ask about me going out so often.”

“Wait.”

“What is it?” Bridgette draped the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

“I want to meet them. Not  _ right now _ but… I want to.” Marinette bit her lip. “We can talk about this later. I just wanted to say it before I chickened out again.”

“Oh.” Bridgette’s eyes widened. “Can I tell mom and dad? Let them know how I found you and everything?”

“This is where it gets complicated again,” Marinette sighed. “Sure. Just, don’t tell them about Felix and Adrien and all that. It’ll be too much if you do.”

Bridgette nodded. “Good idea. I mean… They kind of think Felix is my boyfriend right now so that’s going to take some explaining.”

“What?” It was Marinette’s turn to be surprised. She stood and collected her things and the two girls walked out of the cafe towards their cars.

“They don’t know it’s Felix Agreste. I just needed an excuse as to why a boy I had never mentioned was suddenly calling for me and what not… and then he visited yesterday.”

“You told him where you lived?!”

“No. We were talking –”

“Really?” Marinette asked. Bridgette smacked her.

“It’s not that hard to believe, is it?”

“No, no I just meant… Felix was such a grump when I met him. I’m surprised he was… sociable.”

Bridgette made a face. “I just told him I lived at a bakery. Then he was saying how he missed being able to eat what he wanted – recovering from surgery and all that – and I told him I could bring some cakes when he met with Adrien.”

“Then how does he know where you live?”

“Not to brag, but my parents run the best bakery in all of Paris. It wasn’t hard to figure out once I mentioned what cakes we had.” Bridgette answered. Her face started to heat up. “He told my parents we were dating. Keeping up the lie, I guess, but that’s going to take some time explaining to them.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t sound like the Felix I met,” Marinette raised her eyebrows. “But I guess people are more sociable when they’re not dying and waiting for a life-or-death operation.”

Bridgette shrugged, trying her best to not get flustered again. “I don’t even know why he showed up at the bakery… world famous cakes aside, that is.”

Marinette smiled. “Were you surprised when you saw him?”

“Yeah. He and Adrien… they’re really clones.” Bridgette nodded. They had reached Marinette’s car, and she opened the door, getting in. “Though, his hair's a little longer than Adrien’s.”

Marinette nodded, and then the sisters said their goodbyes. Marinette closed the door and then rolled down the window. She stuck her head out as Bridgette started to continue the walk to her car, “hey Bridgette, keep me posted about Felix.” She paused. “I mean, about the meeting Adrien thing, but also the fake boyfriend thing.”

That did it. Bridgette’s face was red again. “What?”

“I always talk to you about my problems and you always help me out. So I thought I could lend you an ear too.” Marinette laughed as she started her car. “Besides, what are sisters for?”

* * *

Adrien gives one last squeeze and then let’s go of Marinette’s hand. She looks at him over her shoulder, and smiles weakly. “You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Marinette says. “Besides, I’ve seen donations before.”

That was so like her. Adrien looks down, smiling to himself and shakes his head. She hadn’t seen  _ his  _ donation, and if that was anything to go by, then he knew she would need his support for this one. “Alya will be fine. She’s got you there and she’s strong. It’s a routine donation. Just a kidney.”

Marinette nods and leaves his room. He watches her go, and then sighs to himself when she’s gone. Donation days were always hard, and he felt proud of himself for being able to keep up a brave face for Marinette.

Though he had said that Alya would be fine, he wondered how she was fairing. The other girl seemed as upbeat as ever that morning when they had breakfast together. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. She showed him the pictures she had taken that morning and they talked as usual. The only difference was that she didn’t join him in the common room afterwards, but that was because the nurses wanted to attach her IV and prep her for the donation, not because she had been feeling unwell.

All signs pointed to Alya being at top physical condition, and there was no reason to worry. But Adrien wondered if she was nervous now that she was about to be put under. He knew how quickly panic could settle in and how suddenly things could go wrong.

Adrien laid down on his bed and rolled onto his side. He had felt his heart speed up at that thought, and he took deep breaths to calm down. Worrying about Alya wasn’t going to help anyone. He opened his eyes, looking for something to distract him.

On his bedside table, he found his sketchbook.

* * *

 

This was one of the hardest things Marinette has ever had to do. She tries to hold the camera steady and hidden as she records Alya’s donation. Watching a donation was one thing. Recording her best friend being cut open was another.

Marinette looks away from the scene for a second, but the image of Alya: pale and unconscious on the table as the surgeon and nurse worked on her was already burned into her mind. She was never going to forget it. Just like she would never forget Julian or Aubrey or any of the other donors she had cared for.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette turns back to the scene. She can’t hear the doctor or the nurses in the other room and the beeping of the machines is muted through the window and walls. Despite this, she gathers that something is wrong. A nurse goes to retrieve more gauze and another reaches down to help the doctor. From their actions, she deduces that there’s excess bleeding.

She holds her breath. This is not abnormal, she tells herself. This happened during donations all the time, and though it wasn’t ideal, it was easily resolved. A nurse wipes away more of the blood and then throws out the used gauze. Marinette wasn’t squeamish, but seeing all that blood made her sick.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Marinette sees the kidney removed and placed in a plastic bag. One of the nurses takes it away, presumably to storage while the other nurses help the doctor to stitch Alya up. Marinette exhales, most of the tension leaving her shoulders. The donation is almost over now and with that she stops the recording and hides the camera away.

* * *

 

At this particular hospital, donors would be kept in the recovery room for a week before they were allowed back to their own rooms. That way, nurses could keep an eye out on the donors and monitor their health. There were two other donors in the room with their carers at their side. Both those donors were fairing much better than Alya though, and one was about to return to their room in the west wing of the hospital.

It had been two days since the donation, and two days since Marinette’s slept. Even though Alya had been sluggish and tired for the last few days, she still needed pain killers and sleeping pills to finally knock off. With her friend sound asleep, Marinette finally released the breath she’d been holding.

Marinette was exhausted, and she could have taken the moment to rest her eyes as well, but she still had a lot to do. Alya had been complaining about sharp pains in her abdomen, and even though pain after a donation was normal, it shouldn’t have bothered her this much. While Alya was asleep, she took the time to check the wound again. There had been a terrible amount of bruising there when Marinette checked it yesterday - yet another thing for her to worry about. Looking at it now, it appeared just as bad.

Marinette picked up Alya’s chart and wrote down her observations. She noted the bruising and the abdominal pains. She read over the notes left by the nurse on duty. Alya’s temperature was above normal and there was tenderness around the incision. She frowned. This sounded like an infection, and she didn’t understand how no one had caught it until now.

She noted it down on the chart. An infection wasn’t anything terrible that Alya couldn’t bounce back from, but it was another thing that Alya would have to recover from. And the fact that it had been overlooked for two days worried her more. She knew she was tired, but Marinette scolded herself for not noticing sooner. She then made a mental note to talk to one of the nurses later. They, too, had dropped the ball on this, and that couldn’t happen. Not to Alya.

A loud beeping came from her phone, and Marinette jumped. The other occupants of the recovery room looked over, annoyed, and Marinette grabbed her phone to shut the alarm off. With a weary sigh, she gathered her things. It was time to go pick up Adrien.

* * *

 

Marinette had been on autopilot since she left the recovery room. It was a momentous occasion. Over two months had passed since Felix showed up at the hospital, and finally, here they were, waiting in the cafe. But Marinette could not think about anything but Alya. Sure, she knew that Alya was sleeping in recovery and that the nurses and doctor were now aware of Alya’s condition, but Marinette needed to be by her side. It didn’t matter that she had already done all that she could. Marinette wanted to be there with her.

But there was this pressing matter at hand. Adrien sitting in the cafe, his leg bouncing up and down with nervous energy. He looked pale and seemed to be on the verge of breaking out into a cold sweat. Marinette focused on him for a second, and wrapped an arm around him. “It’s alright. I’m here with you,” she said to him in a low voice. It was a small comfort, and enough to make his panic subside, even if only a little.

“Thanks,” he whispered back to her. He knew how tired she was and the fact that she still made the time to check him out of the hospital and bring him here meant the world to him. With a sigh, Adrien leaned against Marinette. “When are they going to get here though?” he asked. His leg continued to bounce, and he turned to hide his face in the space between her shoulder and neck. “I can’t wait any longer,” he said, voice muffled against her skin. The brush of his lips on her skin was accidental. He hadn’t meant for it to feel intimate, but it made Marinette’s heart flutter all the same.

Marinette glanced down at her phone. The last text she had received from Bridgette was twenty minutes ago, and all it read was “running late! Sorry.” Marinette had texted back, but there was no reply. After another five minutes of waiting, Marinette sent another text, but there was nothing either of them could do but sit and wait. So she and Adrien sat there trying their best to keep their anxieties at bay.

Finally, Marinette and Adrien heard the tinkle of the bell as the door opened. They both sat up straighter, and in front of them, there they were. Their originals.

Adrien, lost his breath and his chest clenched uncomfortably. Years of living under Gabriel’s care came back to him. The image of the smiling boy in the picture Nathalie had given him flashed before his eyes and morphed into the mirror image of himself.

Bridgette tapped Felix on the shoulder and pointed to the table. He turned and for the first time, Adrien and Felix’s eyes met. Both boys froze, and Marinette held her breath. She noted the absence of the wheelchair immediately. Felix’s affliction was permanent, and his paleness would never fade, but there was a glow about him of momentary health. How easily he moved without that wheelchair.

The fleeting observation was replaced with more urgent matters. Marinette held onto Adrien’s hand and squeezed it as she prepared for his reaction. If he panicked – if he had an attack right then and there, she would be ready. When Adrien regained some of his senses, he forced himself to take slow breaths. Felix looked much more composed, and he stepped forward, Bridgette following behind him.

They reached the table and took a seat. Bridgette and Marinette shared a glance and Adrien looked like he was about to faint.

Finally, Felix spoke, and with it, dispelled some of the tension. “I’m sorry. For everything. Marinette told me about it when we met, but I still accepted the donation.”

“Is it true?” Adrien asked. “Yo-you didn’t know anything until then?”

“Yes.”

“Not when you were seven and Gabriel took more blood than he needed for a routine testing? Not when he started taking other things that weren’t necessary for treatment? Strands of hair. Skin samples?”

“No, not then. I was too young.”

“What about when you were older? You never suspected the endless flow of perfect matches?”

Felix shook his head. “It was normal for me. I didn’t start to question it until…”

“Until they took me away and suddenly the donations stopped,” Adrien finished.

“Yes.” A silence hung in the air and Marinette looked away from Felix and Adrien. She felt his hand squeeze hers and she squeezed back.

“Then you were never at fault,” Adrien said. Tension seemed to ease off Felix’s shoulder and he sighed. “I can’t blame you for something you didn’t have control over… and besides, the only reason why I’m here… why I exist at all is because of you.” Adrien swallowed a lump in his throat. “To be honest, I don’t mind the donations. Not really. It was just when I was with Gabriel… But that wasn’t your fault and I’m at the hospital now. They’re good to me and Marinette is always here too.”

Something like confusion and then anger flashed across Felix’s face and Bridgette puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s what they were created for. It’s all they know,” she says, and now it’s Marinette’s turn to be angry. The way Bridgette had said it had put some kind of divide between them. It was as if Bridgette and Felix were looking down on her and Adrien because they were clones. When Bridgette turned away from Felix, all Marinette could see was pity in her eyes. Resentment filled her.

“It’s what they were created for, but it doesn’t mean that they have to die for it too,” Felix says. He shakes his head, frowning.

“Look,” Adrien said, interrupting Marinette’s thoughts. “The truth is that I’m here because I need a favor.” Everyone’s eyes were on Adrien now, and Marinette wondered what he was going to say next. They hadn’t… Adrien hadn’t mentioned anything like this. “I know deferrals don’t exist, but you’re Gabriel’s son. Isn’t there a way to get one?”

This was the first Marinette had ever heard of Adrien’s request. She turned to him, brow furrowed and resentment forgotten. After Adrien had told her his story he had agreed to meeting Felix. She had thought that his decision was a little quick, and now she knew why. She was touched, but also apprehensive. She didn’t want for them to suffer the same disappointment as last time, and she reached for his hand. “Adrien,” she said his name softly and he turned. Their eyes met and he smiled.

“You were right that time. It was my fault we didn’t have time, so I’m going to fix it,” he said. God, it killed her to see that there was still hope in his eyes. Hope was dangerous. Hope meant that they could be hurt again. He turned back to look at Felix, awaiting an answer. Bridgette shared a look with Marinette, the two of them anxious to hear Felix’s response.

“I… I don’t know,” Felix says. “How much time would you be asking for? I can’t promise anything, but you’ve bought me years of time. The least I can do is try.”

Adrien looked as hopeful as ever, nodding and thanking Felix for this favor. Marinette’s heart sank. Felix hadn’t given them an answer. He had given them more uncertainty and already she could see the same scenario playing out. Felix could fall through on his promise or Gabriel would refuse them or some other calamity would befall them and they’d be left even more heartbroken than before. Marinette looked to Bridgette again, but she was smiling. It seemed nobody understood how devastating uncertainty could be.

Marinette opened her mouth to say something. She wanted to at least tell Adrien that they needed to talk about this (how did he not learn from the first time? Why did he think Felix or Gabriel could do anything about this?); they needed to prepare themselves for disappointment. But the words were caught in her throat.

Adrien smiled. A genuine, real smile. The distant look he so often had in his eyes now was gone, and Marinette did not have it in her to unleash her doubts on him. Not when he looked at her like that. He beamed at her, his eyes damn near twinkling and she lost her nerve.

She swallowed hard and forced a smile on her face.

* * *

 

Marinette found herself visiting Chloé more and more often. She brought flowers like she saw the people in movies do, but it felt strange, somehow. Chloé wasn’t really there, and even though Marinette talked aloud for hours, she knew her friend wasn’t – couldn’t – really listen. But she kept up with it despite that. Who else could she talk to?

It was hard enough at the hospital with Alya’s condition worsening by the day and Adrien high on false hope. Spending time with either of them hurt her. She wanted to savor what was potentially her last moments with her best friend, but seeing the sunken and gaunt version of her friend haunted her. Marinette could only repeat the same words over and over to her friend. The same words that every carer spoke to their donors. “It’s an honor. You’re nearly there. We’ve spent our whole lives preparing for this moment. You’re nearly complete.”   

With Adrien, she could hardly contain herself. He was so happy, and she didn’t know how to, or if she could even bring herself to drag him back down to earth. Sometimes, she thought that Adrien had caught the disbelief in her eyes, but then he would turn away, a smile playing at his lips. Was he pretending he didn’t notice? Neither of them talked about it.

And how could Bridgette ever understand everything that Marinette was going through? She had tried to talk to her sister, but there was still so much that Bridgette didn’t understand. The meeting between Adrien and Felix had highlighted that. The ever present barrier that existed between the normals and the clones – that elevated the normals and degraded the clones. Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling that, no matter how much Bridgette really cared, and no matter how hard she tried to reach out to Marinette, her words had no real consequences on her. It would be Marinette that faced all of this alone. Bridgette was, and would always be, safe in her own world.

Marinette kneeled on the grass and touched the tree that marked Chloé’s grave. Buried here were the few traces left of Chloé’s short existence, and Marinette wondered if all this trouble, all this stress, and all these problems, was just going to amount to a few paintings, a cassette tape, and a pair of earrings. What was going to be left when all this was over? Certainly not Adrien, and certainly not herself, let alone the two of them together.

“Oh, Chloé,” Marinette said. “If you were here, you'd put everyone straight.”  _ If you were here, I’d have someone who understood. _

It was dark, and Marinette had stayed for far too long already. She had gone back to the carer center for a fresh change of clothes but she needed to return to the hospital and see Alya through the night. The looks on the doctor’s face told Marinette that it was going to be a tough one.

A breeze blew by and Marinette closed her eyes. “I’ll see you again soon,” she said into the wind, and stood. She made the short walk back to her car, squared her shoulders and headed for the hospital, preparing herself for the long night ahead.

* * *

 

It was the middle of the night, and Adrien stirred. He could hear the hurried sound of footsteps in the hall. He glanced at the clock, and even with blurry eyes, he made it out that it was 3AM. He groped around in the dark, and heard his sketchbook clatter to the floor as he got out of bed. He had fallen asleep sketching.

Adrien reached out to the bedside table until he found the light. He braced for the brightness and switched it on. The footsteps outside had stopped, and Adrien bent to pick up the sketchbook and pencils that had fallen before stepping out of his room.

Nurses flocked to Alya’s room. His chest clenched and he stepped forward.

When he reached the door, all he could see was the night shift doctor and nurses surrounding the bed and Marinette hunched over at the edge of the crowd. He could hear the steady tone of the flat line and the sobbing. His throat had a lump in it and he couldn’t even call out to Marinette.

She seemed to sense his presence and looked up then. There was a moment when they shared a look and that was all the confirmation Adrien needed. She ran to him, and unstable with sleep, she knocked him to the floor. They lay there, in the middle of the hallway, and all he could do was hold her as she cried into his chest. The sharp smell disinfectant further woke him, stinging his nostrils, and he, too, began to cry.

His mind was a buzz and he needed to think of something to say. Something that could get through to Marinette and lessen the hurt but what  _ could _ he say at a time like this? He gritted his teeth, frustrated that in the moment that Marinette needed him most, he had let her down again. First with his art and the deferral, now this. Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat, and Marinette looked up at him again, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Face crumpled and a shiver running down her spine.

Adrien bit his lip. In that moment, the only thing that he could think of, the only thing he could say was what Marinette had been saying to Alya for weeks. “It’s an honor. She’s there. She’s spent her whole life preparing for this moment.  _ She’s complete _ .”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. Or cried. Or both. Let me know what you think c:


	10. The Boulangerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a man is desperate to save his family, another family comes together for the first time and Felix hatches a plan.
> 
> WARNINGS: There’s a sex scene! Also vague talk of euthanasia (assisted death).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI, DID YOU MISS ME? 
> 
> It’s been two years since I’ve updated and I’m SORRY. I don’t even have a good excuse for taking so long, but I’ve been working on this fic and I owe it to you guys to finish this.
> 
> I’m serious. I promised to finish this fic so I will. To get there though, I’ve cut out some of the story lines I had planned for the side characters. Maybe one day I’ll be able to come back to rewrite and add in those parts but for now I just want to finish the main story line. 
> 
> Thank you to [Escurochi](http://escurochi.tumblr.com) who beta'd this chapter for me, and THANK YOU to anyone and everyone still reading this fic. You don't know how much it means to me that you've stuck around for this long.

“Mom, can you come downstairs? I need to talk to you and dad about something.” Bridgette reached out and switched the radio off. She stood at the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of her apron. There was a streak of flour across her cheek that she hadn’t noticed. Downstairs, Tom was putting away the cakes and prepping pie crusts for tomorrow. Sabine looked up from the stove. She was just about done with dinner. “One moment,” she said, turning off the heat and placing the pan on another unlit burner. “What is it?” She asked, finally turning around. There was the hint of a smile on Bridgette’s face, but her eyebrows were knit together in nervousness. “What’s on your mind?”  

“A lot of things,” Bridgette answered.  

“Does it have anything to do with this new boyfriend of yours?” 

A blush spread across her daughter’s cheeks and Sabine smiled. “Ah, no. That’s n-not what I want to talk to you about.” She stuttered out, looking down, but not before Sabine saw that the smile grew. 

“Oh?” Sabine raised her eyebrows. “Then what is it?” 

“Come downstairs,” Bridgette nodded towards the stairs and then disappeared down them. Sabine checked the stove was off once more, wiped her hands on a towel and then followed her daughter down.  

The boulangerie was empty now. Only Tom was there, wiping off a countertop. In the back room, the pie crusts were sitting in neat rows in the fridge, ready for fillings tomorrow. Tom was just finishing off the cleaning when he saw Bridgette returning and his wife following after. Usually, after they had closed the bakery for the night, Tom would join his two lovely ladies upstairs, dinner hot on the table. Rarely, did they come back downstairs. He threw the cloth over his shoulder and put his hands on his hips, eyebrows raised. 

“Our daughter wants to talk to us,” Sabine said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “And it’s  _ not _ about her boyfriend.” 

Tom made raised an inquiring eyebrow and followed Bridgette to a table. She sat down and her parents did the same. Tom reached out and wiped the flour from Bridgette’s face. “So if not about your boyfriend, what  _ is _ this about?” he asked.  

Bridgette blushed, but the smile and shyness disappeared from her face. “Stop it. This is serious.” 

Both Sabine and Tom straightened up, concerned now. A million thoughts ran through their heads, as they do. Parents were forever worrying about their children.  

“This… I wanted to talk about my sister.” It only took them a split second before Tom and Sabine understood what their daughter was saying. “Because Marinette is in Paris, and she wants to meet the two of you.” 

There was a moment when the world stood still for Sabine and Tom. Finally, it was Sabine who broke the silence. A sob wracked through her and she covered her mouth with her hand. Instinctively, Tom put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in. He blinked at Bridgette questioningly. How did she know that Marinette was in Paris?  

“Would… would that be okay?” Bridgette asked, voice soft. Sabine felt tears prickle in her eyes.  

“How did you… have you two met?” Sabine asked. Bridgette nodded. 

“Several times. She’s… amazing. She looks so alike me but also different. She always does her hair up in these pretty braids – I think she does it because it keeps it out of her face and she’s always busy running around – and that’s more effort than I put into my hair. She’s paler than me, but then again she does spend most of her time in the hospitals, but she’s healthy. I bet healthier than I am.”  

As Bridgette started to describe her, Sabine tried to imagine how the little girl she had met looked as a woman now. Tom could almost picture his lost daughter. 

Bridgette looked away from her parents for a second. “I didn’t know how to feel when you first told me about all of this. I could have had a sister.” She stared down at her hands, playing with the hem of her apron again. “She was pretty surprised to see me. We talked, and then we figured we could get to know each other.” 

Tom held Sabine tighter when he felt her shaking. She was crying now. 

“She’s a carer now. Her donors are both friends of hers from Francois Dupont…”  

“Who?” Sabine sobbed. 

“Adrien and Alya,” Bridgette answered, smiling. “They’re both lovely too.” 

“They were all perfect children,” Sabine answered. She remembered all those kids and their faces when she told them the truth. It broke her heart. 

“Most of her time is spent with them, but Marinette’s told me she likes to draw. She carries a little sketchbook with her. And she’s crafty. She likes to make things… and she’s so curious,” Bridgette gave a little laugh. “It turns out, she had been looking for me, too.” 

Sabine wiped at her tears and Tom looked down at his wife. He wasn’t sure if she was overcome with happiness or heartbreak. “When? When can we meet her?” Tom asked, speaking for the first time since Bridgette broke the news to them.  

“I don’t know. She’s very busy lately, and I barely see her. But we talk on the phone. You can call her first before you meet in person if you want.” 

“I… can we… I need a moment,” Sabine said. Bridgette nodded. She stood, took off her apron, and hung it on the hook on the wall behind the counter on her way back upstairs. Bridgette got as far as the first landing before she heard her mother crying again. 

“You owe it to her.” 

“You don't understand, Tom. I left her there.” 

“You couldn’t take her with you.” 

“How do I face her after that?” 

“She’s your daughter and you love her,” There was a pause. “You face her as any mother would. With unconditional love.” 

Bridgette stopped listening then. She walked up the stairs, bypassing the kitchen. She could smell dinner, but she wasn’t hungry and she went up to her room. She’d make herself scarce tonight, until her parents had recovered from the news and she could talk to them about this again. 

She sits in her room for a moment, idle. It’s strange, this quiet. Her home was always so lively. In the mornings when she woke up, there would be the sound of metal pans and the mixer – her father already starting the day in the bakery. As Paris woke up, customers would flitter in and place their orders. Some dropped in briefly on their way to work. Others came in to lounge and to enjoy a lazy brunch. The day was always so filled with chatter that Bridgette could hear even way up in her room. In the evening, when the bakery had closed for the night, there would still be an abundance of sound. The bustle of Sabine cooking in the kitchen, TV on. Her father, once he had finished in the bakery would find his way up, and his booming laughter would fill the house as he watched TV or chatted with his wife.  

Dinner was always full of conversation between the three of them, and silences were filled with the TV or with the radio. There was hardly ever a quiet moment in the house, and in this moment, Bridgette found she disliked it.  

There was a knock on her door and her father popped his head through. He looked like he couldn’t quite find the words he was looking for. 

“We… talked about it,” he said. “I think it would be good… if we talked to her on the phone first.” 

Bridgette nodded and reached for her cellphone, but Tom stopped her. 

“Not tonight. Your mother’s not ready yet.” 

“Right. Of course,” Bridgette looked down, a small smile on her lips. Marinette was like her mother that way… reacting to news with such shock. They both needed to prepare themselves fully to face their past. Bridgette brought her hand back to her side as she remembered how shaken Marinette had been when she first met Bridgette. “Is she okay? Did I make a mistake?” 

Tom opened his mouth to answer and then closed it. He made his way into the room, settling into a spot on the chaise next to Bridgette and kissed her on her forehead. ”She will be fine. She’s overwhelmed. But you did not make a mistake. I’m glad you told us about… Marinette.” Saying his other daughter’s name for the first time felt strange, but good. 

“Thanks dad, just let me know whenever you guys are ready,” Bridgette answered. 

“Actually, could you tell me more about her?” Tom asked. “I’m curious. Both you and your mother have met her.” 

“Oh. Well, she’s not mad at mom or anything…” she says sheepishly. “Sorry, I overheard. But you can tell mom, put her at ease and all.” Tom nodded. “She’s just curious about you guys. All she knows is that we live in a bakery.” 

“She knows about the boulangerie?” 

Bridgette chuckled. “It was her only clue when she was looking for me.” 

Tom nodded, smiling, but strangely nervous then. “Do you… do you think she will like… this?” He gestures around them. Bridgette could tell that he was worried about Marinette’s opinion. 

“Dad, of course she will.” Tom smiled back at her then, and reached out to pat his daughter on her head. No matter how old Bridgette was, she would always be his little baby girl, all bundled up in blankets in his arms. 

He went back down the stairs after that and Bridgette lay back on the chaise. She listened to the sound of her father’s footsteps fading down into the rest of the apartment and then all was quiet again. She disliked the quiet, but she smiled, knowing that soon, when he parents recovered from their shock, the whole bakery would be filled with the bustle of preparing for Marinette.  

 

* * *

 

Marinette lay curled in Adrien’s arms. He had fought hard against his weariness but sleep had won and now she could hear his even, measured breathing and feel the rise and fall of his chest. She pressed herself closer to him, unable to sleep but needing the comfort of his presence around her.  

It was late. Or rather, it was really early. Marinette should have been asleep hours ago. She needed the rest because she had planned to bring a box of Alya’s things out of Paris to where Chloé was. As always, she would make a rough sketch of her best friend, and write a brief description of her and place it in the box before she buried it. In her mind, Marinette had already noted all the things she would need to do when she got up and scheduled her day accordingly. But she did not want to do any of it. She just wanted to forget it all and lay here next to Adrien where it was safe. 

Instead of sleeping, she had been awake for hours, wallowing and crying. However hard she tried, Marinette could not stop the tears from falling again. Her eyes were already red and puffy, and she wiped the tears away. She swallowed a sob, making as little noise as possible. She didn’t want to wake Adrien.  

He stirred anyway, instinctively pulling Marinette closer to him. Before he knew it, he was blinking the sleep away and refocusing his vision on Marinette. She sniffled, and he kissed her forehead. 

“Oh, Marinette.” He sighed and wiped a stray tear away. Marinette could feel his breath warm on her face. And as if he had read her mind, “it’s okay to mourn.” 

Marinette nodded silently but curled in on herself, relishing in the feeling of his arms around her. It felt so safe and so warm here, but she knew better. The world would move on from Alya even if Marinette wouldn’t. It would keep going and changing and this momentary warmth would pass. Nothing was ever safe. Not for her. Not for clones. 

Adrien took in a deep breath. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he said. She felt the vibration of his throat against her cheek, and it’s then that she really pulls herself out of her thoughts. She looks up at him, lashes wet and lip quivering. It takes everything to not burst into tears again when she sees Adrien crying too. “Because  _ I  _ can’t do it alone,” he says, barely a whisper. 

This time, she’s the one who wraps her arms around him and pulls him close. They cling to each other, holding the other together – holding each other together so neither of them fall apart. Marinette caresses his cheek and the tips of her fingers interrupt the path of his tears. Clouded green eyes meet dulled blue ones and neither could truly express the loss they feel and the utter relief that they are both still here. Still able to hold one another.  

Maybe it’s Marinette who brings Adrien’s face to hers or maybe it’s Adrien who leans in towards her, but the press of lips and taste of salt is undeniable. Tears mingle and when they break for air, they gasp, unable to contain the flurry of emotions within them. So much sorrow. So much lost. Who else was already gone? Kim – Rose had told them as much.  Chloé, Marinette had seen for herself, and now Alya – but who else? Who else from their little class was already gone? Who would they never see again and who had survived?

Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat. With a shared look, they both seemed to understand. So much lost, but here they both were.  _ Still alive. _

This time, it was definitely Adrien who leaned in first. His right hand came to rest at the nape of Marinette’s neck as he guided her towards him. Eyes closed, their lips and tongues met. He moved to kiss away her tears, and she did the same for him. Lips on skin, Marinette whispered her relief to him – how glad she was that he was here, that through everything they had finally come together, but most of all she whispered promises of happiness. That, deferral or not, this time they would be happy.

Marinette’s hands felt the expanse of his chest, tugging at the cloth of his shirt, and he moaned at her touch. Adrien tilted his head, bringing their lips together again. Breaths mingled, and it was the sweetest thing Marinette had ever tasted.

When they pulled away for a second time, Marinette bent her head to kiss his chin, his jaw, his neck, collar, and chest, mapping whatever bit of skin she could reach with each press of her lips and committing it to memory. She reveled in the little sounds he made. The small sighs and gasps – sounds… proof of his being. More than that, the feel of him against her, solid and warm and here – she needed to touch every part of him; needed to confirm for herself that he was here with her and he was hers.

Adrien ran his hand through her hair once before twirling a strand around his finger and lifting his hand again to hold her head against him - to press her kisses closer because nothing felt better than this. “Marinette,” he sighed, breath shaky, eyes fixed on her. She was on top of him and he looked up, lips swollen and red. The room was still dark, but dawn was steadily creeping in. The fuzzy morning light seemed to cast a spell on the world, leaving everything quiet and surreal.  Neither of them said anything, hesitant to break the mood that had settled over them both. Marinette’s expression was questioning, but she waited for Adrien to steady himself once more. Less shaky now, though his breath was still heavy, his face flushed as his fingers slipped under her shirt. Marinette’s breath hitched at the feel of his warm hands across her stomach and then her sides. Light, feathery touches that made her wish for more – for something solid. She wanted him to hold her again.

Marinette sat up, straddling him. She pulled her shirt over her head and he watched as her hair fell over her pale shoulders. He reached out to her, his hand settling in the center of her chest. It dipped lower, past her breasts before detouring to her side, and following the curve of her hips. He ran his hands down her side, tracing every curve and reveling in the softness. Marinette shuddered at his touch, and leaned down to him again, lips meeting halfway as they shared another slow kiss. Soft tongues and sweet breaths mingle in the space between them and she felt something in her ache.  _ ‘More.’  _ She reached under his shirt, craving the feel of his skin. Her nails trace over his abdomen and she feels the ripple of his abs but also the faded scars. The slight muscles there twitch in response. The low groan that escapes him triggers something heady and warm in her and she licks her lips. They only break away when he sits up to pull his shirt off too, and then she’s in his lap and he’s holding her, his hand splayed on her back. He fumbles with the clasp of her bra, and with a little assistance, it finally ends up on the floor with their shirts.

Adrien wants to tell her how beautiful she is and how much he loves her but the words come out in a tumble. He presses their chests together – the contact so soothing, he can think of nothing else. Hearts beating in sync, he kisses her throat again and she grinds down on him. His thoughts are gone now. So much for words – all he can do is moan. His breath is warm on her skin, and she loves it, the way he feels, the way she makes  _ him _ feel. So she does it again.

His hands run the length of her sides one last time before they tug at her pants. Marinette is a little more impatient and she dips her fingers below his waistband without a second thought. He’s hard in her hand, and Adrien loses whatever senses he has left in an instant. He breathes hard against her neck, taking a moment to reel himself back in from the pleasure, and follows her lead. He pushes her down on the bed and Marinette pouts at the loss of contact. His smile is dreamy as he looks down at her and kisses the corner of her mouth, moving quickly to slide off her pants before taking off his own. She’s wet and waiting and oh, so soft. He stops for a second to take in the sight of Marinette on the bed. She’s wet for  _ him _ , and the very thought of it is enough to drive him crazy. 

He lifts her leg, bending down to kiss her knee and as he moves, each kiss draws closer and closer. She whimpers when he kisses her inner thigh, and then higher and higher. She gasps when he closes his mouth over her, and the feel of his lips on her is a delicious pressure, all the tension from the last few days melting from her shoulders as pleasure settles in its place.

Her eyes flutter closed and she can’t help but grind down on him. Adrien grips her hips, holding her steady and she whines. Pleasure washes over her. It feels so good, but it’s  _ still _ not enough. When she whines again, she looks down to see him looking back up at her from between her legs. The sight makes her a little light headed – sunlight filtering through the window and reflected in his hair. He seems to glow; bright green eyes and wet eyelashes sparkling in the sun. He’s beautiful and she can’t help but tangle her hand in his golden locks. For a brief second, she thinks she’s touching sunlight itself.

Adrien’s looking up at her,  dreamy smile still in place. W hen she looks down again, he licks her again and another crash of pleasure shakes her core. God, the way his lips press against her – even the ghost of his breath over her is enough to make her shiver. He pulls away, kissing her skin as he crawls up to her. Thigh, hips,  stomach, breasts, shoulder, collar, neck, mapping her own body in turn. He cannot get enough of her scent, and he lingers on the spots that make her moan the most. The spots that make her restless and needy beneath him. With half lidded eyes, he takes in the sight of Marinette as desperate for him as he is for her. He bites his bottom lip, chest heaving as he presses their bodies together again. It was taking everything he had to restrain himself.

Tender, she thinks. Every move he makes with her is gentle and tender. So she reaches down to touch him again, and she’s the same for him. Gentle and tender and sweet, and they kiss. His fingers slip into her and they grind against each other. He has a hand on her cheek, tilting her face to the perfect angle, and she drapes a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“I love you,” Adrien says between kisses. He says it again and again, and Marinette doesn’t even hesitate to reply. Their kisses become a jumble of “love you’s” pressed between their lips. It’s then that he enters her, slow, and Marinette gives a breathy sigh. He kisses away the last of her dried tears and groans at the feeling of entering her. They’ve waited for this moment for so, so long. Endured so much to get here and now they’re together – one – at last.

Marinette arches her back and Adrien shudders when he’s fully in her, breath hitching. There’s a second where he’s still, and he scans her face for a sign to stop, but there is none. Instead, Marinette pulls him to her chest and he bites the space between her neck and shoulder as he begins to move. He thrusts and she gasps. He grinds and she moans. He rolls his hips and she cries his name.

He’s desperate to hear more. Her voice is music to his ears and his name on her lips is the angel’s choir. He licks the spot he’s bitten and kisses at the marked skin. Marinette can hardly get a hold of herself. He’s all she sees and all she feels and she rolls her hips in time with him, creating delicious friction and pleasure for them both.

Their breaths shorten until they’re panting and moaning and gasping. She opens her eyes to see him above her, face flushed, lips parted and eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensations. Green eyes so bright in the morning light, and golden hair like sunshine itself. She reaches out to take his face in her hands. He is all she has in this world now. He’s all that’s left and she would never let him go.

She’s soft and warm, her arms encircling him in an embrace he never knew he needed. He kisses the swell of her breasts, the freckles on her chest and the slope of her neck, leaving as many marks as he can. ‘ _ She’s mine _ ,’ he thinks, ‘ _ and I’m hers, and nothing can take her from me. _ ’ He touches a hand to her cheek and she leans into it, kissing his palm. He caresses her cheek and when his fingers brush her lips, she kisses the tips. A pink tongue darts out to lick him and then she’s sucking on his finger. Adrien’s eyes flutter shut. He groans as he thrusts and rolls his hips again.  _ Fuck. _

God, his movements are long and slow and the pleasure drags out, rolling over them in waves. There’s a tension in his shoulders as he leans down to her again. “Kiss me,” she says, over and over, gasping for breath, so he does it. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. She always wants more. She’s hungry for his lips, his touch, and for the way he shifts inside her. The heat in the pit of her stomach builds and it feels so  _ good _ she doesn’t understand how the world could be falling apart and yet a feeling like this exists.

Marinette tenses as the heat building inside her reaches its peak. She arches up, and Adrien’s never seen anything more beautiful than this – than Marinette in complete bliss because of him. He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand, runs a thumb along her swollen lips and kisses her slow as she rides out her pleasure. It takes another moment – first she tenses but then the tension washes away and she relaxes in his arms, and gazes at him with bleary eyes. She takes his face in her hands again, pressing their foreheads together. Their breathing syncs as he thrusts again and again. Marinette places lazy kisses over his cheekbones, his closed eyes, his nose and jaw and mouth.

He shivers when Marinette’s kissing him so softly, her hands sliding under his arms to splay on his back. There’s hard, tense muscle beneath her hands and she can’t help but drag her nails over his skin. The sensation makes him shudder. A moment later, his vision blurs and he comes.

They’re both panting, faces so close together that the sound of their breathing drowns out the sound of medical machines down the hall. Collapsed and tangled together, Adrien gazes at Marinette and she’s glowing. As deep as the sadness in her eyes is, her eyes twinkle in the morning light. He runs a hand through her dark hair, and swears he can see the sky in her eyes.

Here, right now, nothing else matters except her. They had always felt that they had nothing but their friends and each other. But their friends were disappearing one by one, and here the two of them were. Through some miracle, they were still here and present. 

There’s a calm that settles in, and the exhaustion from a sleepless night makes her eyelids heavy. It’s then that tears spill from her eyes again, and Adrien kisses them away as he had before. “You’re everything to me,” Marinette cries. “I can’t lose you too.” 

“You won't,” Adrien whispers against her skin. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“But Felix…” 

“We’ll get a deferral this time,” he responds. There’s something in his voice that almost makes her believe him, but the hopelessness from before is still a fresh wound, and she will not forget how it had hurt them.  

“But this… this is all that we have,” Marinette’s voice is hoarse from crying and from all that’s just happened. She tightens her arms around him. “We can’t hope for more than this. Last time… last time…” 

To Adrien, she sounds broken and hurt. He buries his face in her hair and kisses the top of her head. He strokes her hair and Marinette settles in against his side. Just as before, she feels safe here. But she knows this is all temporary. This moment would pass and then they’d be right back where they started. Adrien nudges her with his cheek and she looks up at him. He offers a small smile, “It’s not a bad thing to hope. Even if it hurts.” With a dry laugh, he adds, “I know that better than anyone.” 

It was like he could read her mind. Like he knew all her insecurities. His skin is warm against hers, and Marinette buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him. Their legs are tangled together with the sheets and Marinette closes her eyes. None of this perfect moment will last, she knows, but now she wonders if it’s such a bad thing to hope for this security again… for the feeling of him around her, for the taste of his breath, and for the feeling of being together – being one and whole.  

No, it wasn’t, she realized, and her heart clenched.

 

* * *

 

It was late in the evening before they reached the grove outside of Paris. The hospital staff had frowned when Marinette signed Adrien out so late, but she didn’t care. She carried the box of Alya’s things out to the car and they were on their way.

Though the days were getting shorter and the nights colder, there were still many people on the streets as they drove out of the city. Adrien watched the pedestrians going to and fro. He watched as people smiled upon finding their friends or lovers in the crowds. With these little glimpses into the lives of strangers, Adrien couldn’t help but feel separated – detached – from the world. Here he and Marinette were struck by tragedy, and the world didn’t care.  

“There are so many people out,” he said. “Even though it’s already dark.” 

Marinette kept her eyes on the road, “This is the city of lights, after all.” 

When they exit the city, however, everything falls silent. The only sound is the rumble of the engine. Staring out the dashboard, Adrien can only see as far as the headlight’s reach. He shuts his eyes and forces in a deep breath. It wasn’t raining, but the stillness of the night and the oppressive darkness surrounding them reminds him of the night they found out the truth of the deferrals. How they clung to each other desperately as the world fell apart, and cried. He swallowed hard, but then blinked. 

He turned to look at Marinette. Her eyes were still on the road, but her hand rested on his knee, anchoring him. “Are you okay?” she asks, and he nods.  

He exhales, and places his hand over Marinette’s. “I’m fine. You?” 

“Fine,” she replies, her mouth a tight line. 

They’re lying to each other, and they both know it. Still, they allow the lie because that morning had been a short reprieve from the pain and they wanted to let it last a little longer. 

The two of them had slept well into the afternoon and when they woke, Marinette set to work right away, packing Alya’s belongings into a box. Adrien kept her company and helped out. He also called Bridgette, telling her that Marinette wouldn’t be able to make their usual coffee meeting because of Alya’s completion. She has asked if it was okay to tell her parents what had happened and sent her condolences.

Meanwhile, Marinette packed away camera lenses and negative strips. There had been so many pictures too. Cleaning up the room forced Marinette to look at the pictures – forced her to think of better times when they all still had  _ time _ . More than once, she had to stop cleaning, overcome with a past memory. Adrien stepped in and held her until the tears stopped and tried his best not to cry too. He couldn’t. Not in front of Marinette. At least one of them had to pretend they were strong.  

The drive didn’t take too long once they left the city. When they reached the grove, Marinette parked the car on the side of the road and the two of them sat in silence. Marinette’s hand was still on Adrien’s knee, and he still held her hand. The contact was enough consolation for them both. 

The two of them got out of the car. Adrien popped Marinette’s trunk open, and retrieved the box. He handed it to her and then grabbed the shovel too. They moved silently, and after closing the trunk, Adrien followed Marinette wordlessly through the trees.  

The path they took was winding. Marinette seemed to be wandering aimlessly, but she knew exactly where she was going, and it wasn’t long before the two of them reached the grove of trees where Chloé was. All that marked the spot was a ring of rocks and a bouquet of fresh flowers sitting at the base of a tree. Adrien stepped carefully around it, and bowed his head to the tree as he passed.  

Marinette stopped in front of another tree and set down the box. She turned to face Adrien and it was then that he saw she had been crying again. She sniffled and he reached out to wipe her tears away. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and then pulled her to his chest. 

“Right here,” Marinette said, and Adrien nodded. He let go of her and began to dig in front of the tree.

 

* * *

 

Bridgette chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to upset her mother again. When she sat them down, she explained that Marinette and Adrien were going through a difficult time, and how this didn’t mean Marinette didn’t want to see them. It only meant that Marinette needed time to grieve before she met them. Her parents were obviously understanding, though Sabine’s tears were unavoidable. 

“I remember Alya,”Sabine said after a stretch of silence. “She was always asking questions. Always so curious about everything… I can’t believe she’s gone.” 

Tom frowned. He had never met these clones but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness for this girl. He knew that this was how it was for clones. He knew that this was what they were created for but he couldn’t agree with it, “they’re just children.” 

Bridgette stared at her parents. They were the kindest, most understanding people she knew and she wished the three of them could be there for Marinette and Adrien. She hoped that Marinette knew she was loved and that her family was here for her.

 

* * *

 

Marinette peered down into the hole as Adrien leaned the shovel on another tree. He returned to her side.  

Marinette bent down, ready to lower the box when he stopped her. “Wait,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a slip of paper and handing it to Marinette. “Put this in there too.” 

“What is it?” She asked as she put the box down next to her and unfolded the paper. She recognized it as a page torn out of his sketchbook. 

“A sketch. Well, a bunch of sketches. I… wanted to do something for her too.” 

It wasn’t a simple sketch like the sketches that Marinette had done for her previous donors. It was a portrait done in ink, bordered with detailed sketches of Alya’s various expressions. In the main portrait, crosshatch shading covered half Alya’s face as she looked down at the camera in her hands. Adrien had done a full study of their friend. On the edges of the portrait, he had drawn Alya smiling, eating a pastry. And another of her looking through a camera. He even captured the face she made when she teased Marinette, and the absolute concentration she had when she looked at the world through a lens. 

Marinette couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she looked over the drawing. She glanced up at Adrien and he bent low to hug her again. “When did you do this?” she asked.  

“Alya would take so many pictures, and sometimes she took pictures of me, so I’d draw her in return. We took turns being models for each other,” he explained. Rubbing his hand up and down Marinette’s back in comfort.  

She sniffled and pulled away from him, reaching around to retrieve the box and to put it in the space between then. She opened the lid and folded up Adrien’s sketch. She placed it on top of the many albums and piles of loose photographs. When she reached for the lid again, she paused. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

“What?” 

Marinette couldn’t bring herself to close the box again. She stared down at its contents. Adrien’s sketch, Alya’s two cameras which sat in cases in the corner of the box. The rest of the box was filled with albums and loose photographs… so many photographs. How could she just bury all these memories? “I can’t do this,” she choked out before a sob wracked through her. She started crying again and Adrien opened his mouth to speak – but then stopped himself. He couldn’t find the right words.  

So instead, he reached into the box and pulled out Alya’s spare camera. He slipped his drawing into the case and then leaned down, placing camera, case and all, into the hole, and then got up and retrieved the shovel. He began to fill the hole while Marinette cried, and when it was done, they went back to Paris with the box. 

 

* * *

 

 

The Agreste mansion was quiet. Most of the servants had left, and though Caline was a live in nurse, she had retired to bed an hour ago. Felix had heard his father come home and waited until he knew Nathalie was gone. It wasn't uncommon for Nathalie to stay late and work with his father. Felix remembers a time when he was angry at his father – he was too young to understand, his mother had just passed and Nathalie was around too often.  

But he knows better now. He knows that Nathalie had loved his mother as much as he or his father did, but there is still something about her that bothers him. Too often, he saw guilt on her face, and he couldn’t figure out why. He had never done anything to her, so why did she play the victim around him? 

Felix shook these thoughts from his head and went to find his father in the study. He knocked on the door, thrice. Gabriel’s voice beckoned him inside, but when Felix stepped through the heavy oak doors, his father’s head was down, buried in research papers and experiment results. He wondered if his father ever slept.  

“What is it?” Gabriel asked, not looking up.  

“I want to speak with you about Adrien,” Felix cut straight to the point. At that, Gabriel did look up. He was frowning as he put down his articles and stood. Gabriel rose to his full height and for a second, Felix faltered.  

Gabriel stared down at his son, assessing him, analyzing and calculating how best to deal with the situation. Felix frowned. He never thought he’d be at the end of that look his father was giving him. Sure, Gabriel had been stern with him when he caused trouble as a child, but there was a time when Gabriel looked at him with warmth and pride. Since his mother passed away, Gabriel had become more… distant. For a second, Felix missed the way his father used to be. “I thought I forbade you from meeting him.” 

He was being evasive, but Felix had prepared for this. “He told me everything.” 

Gabriel took off his glasses and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his lenses as he spoke. He sounded careless, “it doesn’t matter that you know. Not anymore. I don’t care so long as it doesn’t cause another scandal.” Gabriel made an annoyed face, putting his glasses back on and tucking the handkerchief away. “That would be troublesome.” 

Heat crept up Felix’s spine. He felt restless and frustrated. His father didn’t care at all about the clones as long as they gave him what he wanted – as long as he could use them. And the bombshell he had just dropped meant nothing to him – it was as if this was all just a minor inconvenience when  _ lives _ were at stake. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter ‘anymore’?” 

His father’s eyes narrowed on him. Felix forced himself to stare back, to not look away or back down. It was a small victory when Gabriel looked away first, and Felix stood taller… 

He looked to where Gabriel’s gaze had fallen. A portrait of his mother hung on the wall, and the confidence drained out of him.  

“Do not meet with the boy again,” he commanded. Felix snapped out of it and he stared back at his father again, angry with himself for having fallen for that. His father was clever that way. He knew just how to manipulate people. 

But Felix couldn’t back down. Not from this. “No,” he said, and stepped closer to his father’s desk. “It might not matter to you, but this matters to me, and it’s damn important to Adrien.” He was in front of his father now. Only the desk separated the two, and Felix held his gaze. “Give him a deferral,” he demanded with as much authority as his father. Felix nearly surprised himself, speaking to his father with this tone. He had grown more rebellious over the years, but he had never stood up to Gabriel like this. His defiance took the form of minor rebellions, and passive aggression. It was never this direct. 

“And what if you get sick again? Do I let you die because you think it’s more humane to let the boy pretend he’s normal for a few years?” 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Felix replied, biting his tongue. What would father say if he had answered ‘yes’? “I’ve made it this far without him. I don’t need him.” 

A cruel smirk makes its way onto Gabriel’s face, but he didn’t take any enjoyment in proving his son wrong. “Felix, you have no idea the lengths I went to to keep you alive.” A shiver went down Felix’s spine. “You  _ need _ him.” 

Felix bit back his frustration. The absolute finality his father had spoken with frightened him. His shoulders tensed into a hard line and he clenched his fists. There was nothing he could say because his father was right. He survived a few years without Adrien, but he wouldn’t be alive at all if his father hadn’t done what he did – and no, he didn’t know the lengths that his father went to. He didn’t know what else he might have done during those years without Adrien. A pang of guilt hit him and Felix swallowed hard. Had there been others? Who else had suffered just because his father loved his family too deeply?  

Gabriel sat back down in his chair, and though Felix was looking down on him from where he stood now, it didn’t faze Gabriel at all. He looked back at his articles, picked it up and began to read. The gesture sent another flare of rage through Felix – knowing his father, this meant that he knew he had won the argument. “You will not meet with him again,” Gabriel said. It was less of a command this time, and more of an absolute. 

Felix had lost, and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself in front of his father anymore. So he turned on his heel and stormed out of the study. He was so angry, and in such a hurry, that he didn’t see Nathalie waiting outside the oak doors of the study.  

 

* * *

 

 

“You were supposed to stop them from meeting,” Gabriel said when Nathalie returned. Her footsteps were soft but unmistakable. Gabriel, once again, did not look up from his work. He didn’t sound angry at her, but she knew he was disappointed. “It’s unlike you to fail me.” 

Nathalie walked up to his desk, placing a copy of the institute’s report in front of him and removing any old documents from the desk. “I apologize, it won’t happen again,” she lied. She  _ had  _ done as he’d asked. She had cancelled Felix’s first attempt at meeting Adrien, and refused to help Adrien when he sought her out. But she hadn’t gone any farther than that.  

A question lodged itself in her throat though she tried to swallow it down. She hadn’t felt this urge to question him – to act against him – since… since Angeline. Gabriel glanced at her, sighing. “I expected Felix to lie to me, not outright refuse me. But you? I didn’t expect you to lie to me.” 

Nathalie blinked at him. “I’m sorry?” 

“You care for him.” 

“Adrien.” She pushed away memories of him. How he had been so small and vulnerable… how he had started to grow on her. 

“He was like a son to you, I know that.” Gabriel gathered the files on his desk. He had figured that no work would be done tonight. “And after they authorities took him away, you were… despondent.” 

Nathalie bit her lower lip. He didn’t know. He still didn’t know that she was the reason for them taking him away. He could never know. “I didn’t think you had noticed. You were so busy with finding a new life line for Felix, and then Angeline…” 

Gabriel grimaced. Those had been unpleasant times and he didn’t want to remember them. Tonight had been hard enough already. “Yes, well, I’m a parent too.” He gave a dry laugh, “though Felix might not think I’m a very good one.” 

“Gabriel…” He looked up at Nathalie as they shared a rare moment. “About Felix’s request…” 

He sighed, and rose from his chair, shaking his head. “I can’t do anything about that, Nathalie. Regardless of what Felix thinks, it would actually  _ make _ me a bad father.” 

“But what does it say about you as a person?” Nathalie responded. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She was accustomed to keeping her thoughts to herself, but the words came tumbling out. Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to back down now. She pressed her lips into a thin line and stared him straight in the eyes. The look he gave in return was understanding, but she didn’t think he would yield. 

“That doesn’t matter as long as I’m a good father,” Gabriel replied, and a hollowness made its home in the pit of Nathalie’s stomach as he walked past her. Gabriel left the study, and the heavy oak doors closed with a soft click. “He’s the only family I have left.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Felix hates sitting around and doing nothing. He’s been doing that for most of his life. Others like his mother or Caline would tell him he wasn’t doing nothing. They’d say in soothing voices that he was saving his strength, or he was recovering. When he was little, he believed them. He was saving his strength for the right time. Then he’d get better, and nothing would be able to stop him! His father would stop working such late hours, his mother would stop hiding her tears from him… they could be happy. They could be a family.  

And he certainly had dreams of his own – he would leave the Agreste Mansion and travel the world. He’d see all the places he had read about in books or seen on TV. He’d meet locals and make friends from every country in the world, and he’d finally get to live a little.  

This, he thought, this is what he was saving his strength for. One day, he’d get better and he would do all of that and more. 

But there comes a point when kids stop believing in the white lies their parents tell them. They stop believing in Santa Clause and the tooth fairy. They stop believing in their parents even. As Felix grew up, and the longer he lived with his condition, the less he believed the comforting, white lies. There was no Santa or tooth fairy. He wasn’t going to get better. He wasn’t recovering or saving his strength. He wasn’t going to do any of the things he dreamed of. This wasn’t a life. He was just existing… that’s all he would ever do. Just survive, and exist, and… and nothing more. 

Gabriel’s decision was another stark reminder of that and after the anger and frustration of his argument with his father had worn off, Felix couldn’t help but feel helpless. Just like his dreams of leaving the mansion and travelling the world. He would never be able to do anything. He would never get to live the life he wanted and the heaviness of that realization filled him with a dark impulse – one that he had never told anyone… one that, as he thought about it... could solve everything. A plan slowly pieced itself together in his mind and though he couldn’t accomplish it on his own, he knew it was his best chance.

Oh, but the repercussions could be disastrous. 

Felix felt tears prickling in his eyes as he smiled mirthlessly at himself. He the more he thought about it, the more sense it made and he felt a lightness – he would finally be able to do something. His life wouldn’t be reduced to survival. It would be full of meaning.  

Was he crazy? He was manic. He wanted to put his plan in place right away. He wanted to tell someone, anyone – he found himself wanting to hear Bridgette’s voice. So he called her on a whim. She answered and greeted him, but when the time came for him to tell her, his mouth ran dry.

“Felix?” 

He took a breath. “Bridgette, there’s something… I…” 

“What is it?” she’s patient with him. It reminds him of his mother. 

He stops for a second and then starts over. “First, I have bad news.” 

“Oh, no.” 

“I talked to my father, and… ” 

“Felix…” her voice is soft, comforting.  

He can’t bring himself to say it but his inability doesn’t bother him as much as it would have. His mind is racing ahead, he wants to tell her it doesn’t matter that he couldn’t get the deferral, it didn’t matter that he couldn’t help Adrien, it doesn’t matter that he won’t get to see the world, it doesn’t matter that he couldn’t save his mother because… because...

Bridgette doesn’t understand yet. She mistakens his pause for frustration and sadness. She gives him words of comfort but Felix doesn’t want them. He’s heard enough comforting phrases in his lifetime.

“When do you think I can talk to Adrien?” Felix asks. He’s itching to tell his other half.  

“I’m not sure. They’ve gone radio silent.” 

“What do you mean?”  

“Marinette and Adrien… their close friend just completed.” 

“No,” he’s vexed but it was only a minor obstacle. “Never mind. I’ll… talk to them… tell them when… well, not now.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Bridgette says. Felix is shaking his head, not so much in response to Bridgette – she can’t see him anyway – but more so at himself. He can’t tell Bridgette after all, he realizes. “Is there… anything I should say if they ask, or should I just tell them I’m waiting to hear back from you?” 

“I have a plan but it’s going to take some time,” he explains. “And I’m not sure if it will work yet so can just tell them I’ll be in touch?”

“Of course,” Bridgette replied. “Hey Felix, are you okay?”

Her concern for him touched him. “Yeah, why?”

“It’s just… a lot is going on and I was just wondering how you were coping,” she replied. “I’m glad to hear you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” he replied. His mind slowed down – though he hadn’t specified the details of his plan, talking to Bridgette grounded him. He felt a little crazy, like he was losing his mind – what kind of plan… he shook his head. “Thanks for everything.”

They two of them hung up soon after that and Felix was once again left alone with his thoughts and his plan. He still needed help…

 

* * *

 

 

Felix sat at his desk, writing on a piece of paper with the official Agreste monogram letterhead. He had spent the week researching and plotting out the specifics of his plan but there were some things he couldn’t do himself especially being locked up in the mansion. 

There was a knock on the door and Felix snapped out of his thoughts as he made his way over. When he opened the door, Nathalie was there, much to his surprise. He had thought she had gone home for the night but evidently she was working late again. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I want to speak to you about Adrien,” she said. Felix was wary of her request but let her into the room. He closed the door and turned to face her, waiting for her to elaborate. “You said he told you everything. Did he tell you about me?”

“He mentioned you,” Felix lied. Marinette had told him everything she knew but Nathalie’s involvement was unclear. She had been the one to look after Adrien when he was still in the white rooms, that much he knew. “Why?”

To say Nathalie looked disappointed was an understatement. But she collected herself and shook it off. Her ability to mask her emotions astounded him. “Let me explain myself,” she asked. “It’s a long story but I think you need to hear it.”

“Are you speaking for father? It figures he would leave it to you instead of talking to me himself,” Felix scoffed. He didn’t need this distraction. He needed to find a way to –  

“No Felix, I’m on your side.”

He scoffed again. “That’s unlikely.”

“Things are not as black and white as you think they are,” she replied. “Just let me explain.” When Felix didn’t say anything, she took it as a sign to continue. She looked down at her hands for a second, thinking back over two decades. “Your mother and I were best friends. We’d grown up together.”

Once again, Felix was surprised. He had never heard this before. As long as he could remember, Nathalie had always just been his father’s personal assistant.

“She was sick even before she met your father. She never let it hold her back though. She lived life to the fullest.” Nathalie sounded so wistful. “To be honest, I never thought much of Gabriel. Your mother loved him and he was a good man. The only thing we really had in common was that we both wanted your mother to be happy.”

“What does this have to do with Adrien?”

Nathalie sighed. Despite her long hours and his father’s outrageous demands, Felix didn’t think Nathalie had ever looked this tired. “We worked together to find a cure for your mother. At first it worked. She went into remission and she had you. When we discovered you had the same illness, half the work was already done,” Nathalie explained. “We just needed a suitable match for you.”

“Is that why… Adrien was created?”

She nodded. “You were a match with your mother, of course. She offered to be your donor but Gabriel wouldn’t hear of it. He didn’t want her to feel anymore pain, so we set about creating Adrien… I raised him, you know?” There was a fondness in her voice. “I didn’t know that I would but I came to care for him.” So this is why she had been disappointed that Adrien hadn’t mentioned her. 

“Did mother know about Adrien?” Felix had a hard time believing his mother would… she’d been through the same thing he had. She had told him how she used to meet with and thank all  _ her _ donors. She had raised him to sympathize with clones.

“No, not until she was dying.” Nathalie gave him a strange expression, her professional mask slipped away. He’d never seen Nathalie give so much away. “Your father told her for years that you had perfect matches from the clones but I think deep down she knew something was wrong. After we had Adrien and your mother was in remission, those were some of the happiest and best years. But you and your mother both had an extremely rare blood type. How was it that she had trouble finding matches and you didn’t?” She swallowed hard and continued. “A few things happened after that. The first was that Angeline’s illness resurfaced.”

This part Felix remembers. His mother growing sicker every day. She seemed to fade into a ghost of herself and he remembers thinking as a child that it was his fault. As he got better and better she grew weaker and weaker. He thought he was killing her. 

“The problem was that Angeline didn’t want any more treatments. She wanted to live out her last days with her family. She wanted to be happy.” 

Felix’s eyes grew wide. He was half hysterical – like mother like son. 

“She confided in me but she didn’t tell your father. Gabriel didn’t know she was dying until she was too sick to hide it anymore.”

He remembers this too. How his mother would have a coughing fit and how she never had energy to leave the house anymore. In the moments when he caught her ill, she would hold a finger up to her lips, smile and say, “ _ let’s keep this a secret between us. _ ” And he’d follow along because he didn’t know any better. Because she was his mother and he thought he was killing her so at the very least he could do this much.

“At the same time, a reporter had discovered your father’s secret. Her original suspicion was that your father was having an affair. She saw him making regular visits to an apartment that he had personally owned but went out of his way to hide. She saw the inklings of an affair and approached me with the story, hoping to get confirmation.”

“But that wasn’t true,” Felix defended his father.

“Of course not. But I was forced to make a decision. I either let her run her story and have your mother think Gabriel was unfaithful – have her die believing her husband didn’t love her – or I could tell her the truth...” she trailed off and Felix could see the guilt in her eyes. Guilt… that was directed at him. 

Oh, he realized. That was why she always looked at him with such guilt.

“I’m sorry,” her voice broke and it was barely above a whisper. “I knew other reporters would look into the story after it broke. They would have found Adrien anyway. It was only a matter of time and believe me, I never wanted you to suffer for any of it.”

Felix didn’t know how to feel.  She was right. Adrien would have been found out anyway but she had purposely endangered him. He finally realized why Nathalie looked at him with guilt.  _ He could have died _ … and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care as much as he should have. He knew he should have been angry at her but all he could think about was another realization. Nathalie was the perfect person to help him.

“I never told your father what I had done. The ministry of health took Adrien away and put him into the clone program. They hid him from your father and it’s the only infraction on your father’s record. The scandal nearly cost him his position at the institute,” Nathalie explained. “But that last month with your mother was the happiest he had ever been.”

“Do you regret that decision?” Felix asked. She shook her head without hesitation. 

“I’d do it all again,” she said. “For Angeline and Adrien.” Nathalie hadn’t been lying when she said that things were not as black and white as they seemed. Nathalie wasn’t on his father’s side. She had been on his mother’s side. She’d been on Adrien’s side this whole time.

Felix was speechless. He stood there, staring at Nathalie. How perfect was this? He was shocked by the revelations Nathalie brought to him. After all, there were so many things that Adrien hadn’t known about… so many things he couldn’t have known. He wondered if maybe there were more secrets still. Felix tried to pictured the whole story from Nathalie’s point of view. Raising and caring for Adrien while also subjecting him to all those tests and donations. Taking care of his mother’s last wishes while working for Gabriel. Oh yes, Nathalie was the perfect accomplice. 

“What if… I mean, it’s not quite the same,” Felix said. “Mother wanted her last days to be happy. I just want to have a life outside of my illness… outside of living for others So what if...”

He trailed off, catching Nathalie’s eye and she stared at him. It was his turn to explain and he couldn’t keep the damned smile off his face. As he spoke, Nathalie looked at him like he was insane. 

“I used to think that I had to survive because if I didn’t then it would all be for nothing – father’s work… all those clones that gave up so much for me and now Adrien too. But isn’t this existence itself a waste? I’m not happy. I’m not really living. I’m just here.” He sighed. “I’m wasting their sacrifices to just be when I should be living.”

“Felix,” Nathalie said his name carefully, like she really believed he had lost his mind. “I didn’t tell you this story so that you’d follow in your mother’s footsteps.”

“No. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Long before you brought this up to me.”

“Are you sure of this?”

“Yeah. I need some help though. The legalities… a will… there’s a lot that I can’t do myself.”

“Listen Felix, you must be absolutely sure. This isn’t something you can take lightly.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life…” he falters for only a second, “It’s not selfish though, is it? To want to die?”

Nathalie shook her head. “You’ve done more than enough for others. If you think it’s best and you really want this then...” she stopped to walk up to Felix and pulled him into a hug. He was stunned, but after a moment, wrapped his arms around her too. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this. 

“Take some more time to think about this. I know you think you’re sure about it but you can change your mind and that’s okay too,” Nathalie said. She pulled away from him, and held him at arm’s length. He was so big now. A grown up. A man in his own right. Angeline would have been proud of her son.

Felix nodded, “okay.” He suddenly felt small in Nathalie’s arms, like he was still a child. At the same time, he felt the gravity of the decision he was making… a decision that no child should ever have to make.

After the moment passed, Nathalie went to the door and let herself out. “We can talk more about this later,” she said and he nodded again. “Good night, Felix.”

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette sits in Adrien’s room looking through Alya’s photos. She only moves to turn the pages and to run a hand over the images. When she’s done with the album, she places it back into Alya’s box of things and then pulls out the next album. Aside from these movements, Marinette is completely still as she models for Adrien. After a moment, though, Marinette looks up and holds the album up, pointing to a picture. 

“Do you know who this is?”  

There were pictures dating all the way back to their time at Francoise Dupont. Marinette could figure out where most of the pictures were from or when they were taken. Of course, there were pictures of places and people Marinette didn’t know… such as when she went to the cottages and Alya was at her own halfway home, but this picture was taken at the hospital and Marinette didn’t know who the man in the photo was.  

The man had shown his face in other photos, but this one caught Marinette’s eye. In the picture, the only light source came from the setting sun filtering through the window. His face was half cast in shadow, and the rest of him a glow with dying sunlight. He sat absolutely still, with a vacant look in his eyes. In his hand, he held a little blue slip. His notice.  

Adrien looked up from his sketchbook. “That was Alya’s first carer,” he explained before returning to his sketch. They passed the afternoon like this, looking through photos and sketching. Adrien would tell Marinette about the photos whenever she asked, relaying what he and Alya used to talk about in the mornings before Marinette got to the hospital. Alya had told him a lot… shown him many photos that Marinette was only seeing now for the first time. 

When she finished with the last album, Marinette started again from the beginning. She picked up the first album and flipped to the first page, coming face to face with a younger version of herself. Beside her stood a younger and grinning Alya and Chloé. The next few pictures were of Sabrina in a new hat and Chloé modelling with her sunglasses, newly purchased from the sale, and Marinette showing off the ladybug earrings that Adrien had given her. The photos were blurry, and taken by a child, but no matter how often Marinette looked at them, they were enough to stir up her memories. 

This first album was an entire collection of images of their childhood. There weren’t just pictures of the students of Francoise Dupont. There were also pictures of the school. One of Marinette’s favourites was a picture of the path that Marinette used to take to the fountain behind the school – the fountain that she and Adrien used to call their own. There were photos of their classmates playing at recess, painting in art class… a picture of Marinette, asleep on her bed, clutching her pillow… she remembered that one. She had been listening to the song, hugging her pillow as always, and then she had drifted off to sleep. When she awoke, Alya was there, flipping through her camera, and Marinette wasn’t any wiser that her friend had captured the moment.  

The second album was also filled with pictures at Francoise Dupont, but the children were noticeably older. Going through the albums was like watching herself and her friends grow up. The third album started with what Marinette remembers as the day her classmates all left the school. The pictures that came after that were all at the Burrows – the halfway home that Alya had gone to. The Burrows looked like a smaller, poorer version of the cottages, and Alya’s subjects shifted from her friends to Nathanael, Mylène and Ivan – the ones who had gone to the Burrows with her. 

It was so strange for Marinette to see her classmates… she heard about them every now and then from other carers and donors that she met, but it had been ages since she had seen them. Stranger yet was seeing them in a place that she didn’t know… with other clones that she didn’t know. These were the years Ayla and Marinette had spent separated, and she felt left out of this other life. 

The photos got less blurry and more beautiful. The third album was when Alya seemed to discover her artistic side. There were photos of Mylène and Ivan glancing at each other – stolen looks of half longing evident on their faces and preserved forever by Alya’s lens. By the fourth album, Alya seemed to have developed a fine eye for beauty and the perfect technique to capture it. 

It was in the fourth album that Chloé reappeared in the pictures. She was frail and rarely smiled, but stunning all the same. Alya saw the world in such a wonderful light and her pictures conveyed as much – but with that, also came the pain. It was in this album that the photo of Alya’s carer – devastated with the arrival of his notice – was in. The complete resignation in his eyes made Marinette’s chest heavy. Alya had really mastered the art of preserving lost moments in time. 

In the fifth album, Marinette reappeared in the photos, and soon after, so did Adrien. But that wasn’t all. Alya’s focus turned from her friends to the world around her. She took pictures of the birds in the courtyard, of other donors, and of the nurses and doctors too. More and more, a world began to build itself within the photos – this was more than just the way that Alya saw the world. This was something bigger than that. The photos… everything resonated with Marinette and it wasn’t just because she was in the photos herself. This… this was the world that all clones knew. Alya had mastered the art of capturing the world. 

It's also in the fifth album that photos from Calais appeared. Images from their trip with Chloé. There was a distinct difference between the way Alya saw the world and the pictures that Chloé took. In these pictures, Marinette was in every single one. Whereas Alya learned to see everything – learned to see all sides of the world – it seemed that all Chloé saw was Marinette.  

Going over the photos a second time, Marinette realized that this was a document of their lives… and of all the things they held dear and lost. Not just her, not just Alya. But Chloé, and Adrien, too. And Even Mylene and Ivan, and the other subjects of the photos – their classmates, other donors. Other carers, and all clones. It was a document of what it meant to live and lose  _ everything. _

“Mari, are you okay?”  

Marinette looked up from the albums. The room was darker now – through the window, the sun was setting. She hadn’t realized so much time had passed, and – she reached up to touch her cheek. He hand came away wet with tears – she’d started crying again. Adrien set his sketchbook and pencil aside and gestured for Marinette to come to him.  

She put the album back in the box and went to his side. He held her and kissed the top of her head. He whispered happy memories to her and Marinette thought back to the first album.  

“Why didn’t she ever tell me about all this?” Marinette asked. 

Adrien shrugged. “She didn’t tell me either.” 

“But you know about the photos.” 

“She just told me about what she had photographed on that particular day. And if there wasn’t anything good that day, she’d tell me about past photos. She never outright told me she was documenting our lives.” 

Marinette blinked and pulled away from Adrien. He looked at her, puzzled, as she went back to the box and started to dig through it.  

“What are you doing?” 

“She… there’s a USB in here. Alya asked me for a favor before her surgery.” 

“What was it?” 

Marinette pulled the USB key from the box, relieved and glad she had found it. She turned it over in her hand. “She… made me record her donation.” 

Adrien’s eyes grew wide. He pushed himself off his bed and went to Marinette’s side. “She did wh- Did… did you?” 

Marinette turned to face him and held up the USB between them.  

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette’s visit is very much a surprise. 

She shows up at the boulangerie near to closing time with a box in her hands and Adrien by her side a little over a week after she last saw Bridgette. 

Tom recognized her from the brief glimpse he got as they drove away that night, he drops the tray of croissants he was carrying the moment he sees her walking through the door of the bakery. The long dark hair, those blue eyes – he had thought it was Bridgette for a moment before he realized his daughter was upstairs in her room.  

There are a few customers in the bakery, and they all look to him as the pan clatters on the floor and the croissants are ruined. Marinette and Tom’s eyes meet, and his jaw drops. She looks nervous, and the boy at her side looks sheepish. The other customers turn away, when Tom snaps back to his senses and starts to clean up the mess. Marinette and Adrien approach him at the counter, and Tom finds that he’s shaking as he picks the croissants off the floor. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette,” she says, and Tom looks up at her.  

Tom nods, barely able to form words. After a moment he finds his tongue again, “I know. I…” 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, looking to the croissants. 

Tom shakes his head. “They were old anyway.” 

A silence falls on them. A customer gets up to leave, and the door chimes on her way out. Tom blinks and looks at the clock. “Do you mind… waiting? I’m just closing up for the night.” 

“Okay. I’m… really, I’m sorry. I should have called ahead,” Marinette says. She looks over her shoulder at Adrien. “This was kind of a spur of the moment decision,” she admits. 

Adrien nods. “We’ll just sit over there,” he points to a table in the corner. 

“I’ll… get Bridgette,” Tom says. He watches the pair head to the seat, and Tom disappears into the back. Bridgette bursts into the front of the store a moment later, and politely tells customers that they’re closing for the night. She locks eyes with Marinette and Marinette shrugs.  

“I literally  _ just  _ got your text.” 

“That’s because Marinette just sent it,” Adrien says. “Sorry?” 

“My parents are both freaking out in the back,” Bridgette sighs, running a hand through her hair. She kept it down today, unaware that they’d have company today. “Is everything okay with you guys? There isn’t some emergency, is there?” 

Bridgette bites the inside of her cheek, bracing herself.  

“No, but,” Marinette looks at the box she’s set on the table. “I thought maybe you’d all like to say goodbye to Alya with us.” 

Bridgette blinks. But hadn’t she buried the box? She looks at Adrien but he doesn’t say anything more. “Wait one second,” Bridgette says, and then runs to the back. In the kitchen, her father is frantically finishing up for the night while her mother busies herself with helping him. The two of them look frazzled, and Bridgette can’t help but chuckle at them.  

“They want us to go with them to say goodbye to Alya.” 

“Actually, we’re not going anywhere.” Adrien comes through the swinging doors, the sheepish look reappears on his face when Bridgette jumps, surprised that he had followed her to the back. “We brought some things – Alya’s things… her photos, and we thought Madame Sabine might want to have a look at them too,” he explains. His eyes settle on the older woman he hasn’t seen in over a decade. Sabine’s lost her breath, and tears come to her eyes.  

“You’re all grown up,” Sabine chokes out, and steps towards him. Adrien nods and walks over to her, the two hug, and Tom looks to his daughter for explanation.  

“He was also a student at Francoise Dupont, and he’s Marinette’s… soulmate?” 

Adrien pulls away from Sabine, a laugh falling from his lips. “I guess you could say that.” The Dupain-Chengs all shared a look with one another, but none of them understand and Adrien isn’t willing to explain. “Anyway, what do you guys say?” 

“Alya used to love taking photos,” Sabine said.  

“She never stopped,” Adrien answered. “And, well, Marinette and I thought it’d be the best way to honor Alya, by sharing them.” 

“That’s a lovely idea,” Tom said. He didn’t know this girl, but it seemed she meant dearly to his wife.  

Sabine was still teary eyed, Adrien tilted his head towards the front of store. “Shall we? Marinette’s 

waiting.” At that, Sabine took a breath to steady herself. She looked to Tom and he wrapped an arm over her shoulders. Adrien led the way, followed by Bridgette, and finally, Tom and Sabine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was worth the wait. Comments and screaming are always welcome :)
> 
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://landofoz.tumblr.com/)


	11. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel wonders about Natalie, the Dupain-Chengs get to know each other and Gabriel makes a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truth be told, this was all supposed to be a part of last chapter but EHHHHH I didn't want to shove a 17/18k chapter in your face. As always, thanks to [Escurochi](http://escurochi.tumblr.com) who beta'd again and helped me write fluffy things. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Gabriel didn’t like to pace. Walking back and forth got him nowhere. Instead, when he needed to think, he would walk the halls. Whether he was at home, or at the institute, there were always long corridors for him to traverse. At the institute, he would look in on the other scientists and doctors. He would supervise studies and new projects, and occasionally, he would catch the little mistakes. He’d add in his observations to the ones performing the study, and his presence kept everyone in line. 

More than that, Gabriel was present and involved with all the operations at the institute, and that was how his research had advanced to the point that it did. That was how he had built so much – this was quite literally how he moved forward.  

The funny thing is that Gabriel wouldn’t ever really find a solution to his problem – not the one that was on his mind – the thing that had him walking down the halls anyway. He would watch these other scientists and see their faults and the things that they had missed and he would point them out to them. He would catch their mistakes, and he would find their solutions for them – but there was no one to do that for Gabriel. There was no one to walk in on him, to assess his problem and issues and to simply tell him what he was doing wrong and how to fix it.  

There was Nathalie. She came close.  

Sometimes she would join him on these walks down the halls, and when he started critiquing the researchers and offered guidance to the scientists, Nathalie would offer her own point of view. She would add to his comments, or reverse them – she’d get everyone in the lab to approach the problem in a new light.  

But she could do that because she was removed from the experiments. Whereas Gabriel and the scientists were too close, approaching the problems as scientists would, Nathalie was removed. She wasn’t a scientist. She brought an outsider’s perspective because she  _ was _ an outsider. For the problems that plagued Gabriel’s mind, however, Nathalie was no stranger. She was not an outsider… she was just as close as he was to those issues. She couldn’t do what he needed her to, so, instead, he made her job to do what he told her to do. 

“Walk with me,” Gabriel said as he rose from his chair. Nathalie looked up from the tablet in her hands. He saw a glimpse of the screen before it clicked off. No doubt, she had predicted this and rearranged his schedule to allow for that walk.   

She gave a curt nod, and followed him out of the office. Down the winding halls of the institute, the other scientists and research assistants knew better than to greet him by now. They knew how Gabriel worked and if they left him undisturbed, he’d return with the guidance they needed.  

A long silence followed. Gabriel let himself into one of the labs, and the other scientists, used to these intrusions by now, continued their work. Gabriel observed, and seeing that they were on the right track with their study on accelerated growth, left the room with Nathalie behind him.  

The two were silent as they moved between labs and offices. They slipped into the archives and walked the stacks. They went to the administration department and found a path through the maze of cubicles. They visited each department in turn, and gave their two cents where it was needed. 

Sometime after they had passed the data rooms and Gabriel veered away from entering any of the other departments – at this, Nathalie was confident that Gabriel was in deep thought - Nathalie broke the silence. 

“If I may? There’s a board meeting that I couldn’t push back. We have another half hour before we are due in the conference room.” 

Gabriel shook his head, and made a dismissive gesture. She was right, he should speak to the other directors. There were a number of issues to address but that wasn’t the pressing issue right now. Gabriel turned on his heel and Nathalie halted in her tracks. She watched him as he observed her. 

With that, Nathalie realized that she was the problem on his mind this time. He had been pacing to figure out what her stance was. Where did she figure into this issue with his family and his son? And what was her current connection to the clones – to Adrien? Certainly, he knew that she still cared for the clone, but was that one sided? Did Adrien care for her? 

“Have you spoken to Adrien?” Gabriel asked.   

Nathalie shook her head.  

“Has he tried to reach out to you?” 

She nodded, and Gabriel regarded her honesty. Nathalie was a difficult one to read. After all these years working with her, and even having placed all his trust on her, he still did not understand her.  

So maybe it wasn’t one sided. “Refrain from answering him.” 

“I already refused him.” 

Gabriel nodded with approval. He tried to read the expression on her face, but couldn't. If he didn't know her better, he would think that she didn’t care for Adrien.  

“About Felix,” Gabriel started. “How is he lately?” 

“With the recent transplant, he is healthy,” she answered. “Still, there are the usual troubles post-op, and Caline is looking after him.” 

Gabriel nodded. The last time he had seen his son, they had argued over giving Adrien a deferral. What a silly idea that was – give Adrien a deferral? Felix might as well have been asking to die.  

But if he had been well enough to put up a fight, then Nathalie was right. He was healthy.  

That was one less thing to worry about, for now anyway. Gabriel sighed. “Find a way to make this whole business with Adrien go away.” 

“Of course.” 

“And trace those calls he’s been making.” 

“Calls?” 

“Felix has been calling a bakery an awful lot for someone who hates sweets.” 

Nathalie lifted the tablet from her side, taking note. Gabriel watches her, studies her reaction or lack of reaction. There was a time when Nathalie wasn’t so good at hiding. She used to have little quirks that would give her thoughts away, especially when… when she was with his wife. The two of them together, they were so similar and so different. Around Angeline, Nathalie was really herself.  

Gabriel looks his assistant over once more. He used to know how to read her, but now he can’t tell a thing. He wonders, how faithful is Nathalie to him? When she looks up from the screen, Gabriel gestures to the tablet. “Half an hour, you say?” 

“Yes.” 

She’s so good at pretending. So good at playing the ever the helpful assistant. He can’t learn anything from this interaction. He’d have to find some way to push her. To get her to react and show her true colours.  Gabriel turns back the way they came, heading towards the conference room and Nathalie follows as she always does – 

Always? Had she always followed after him?

 

* * *

 

There were some pastries on the table as treats, and each person had a warm drink in front of them. The five albums are open on the table, though Sabine is only flipping through the first one. Tom is looking over her shoulder, and together, they try to piece together the childhood of their long-lost daughter. In Bridgette’s hands, she holds the second album, and she’s seeing the beginnings of the woman that Marinette would one day be. This is how they try to understand Marinette’s world.  

Across the table, Marinette and Adrien do their best to explain the pictures and to answer their questions: That’s a photo of the school. That’s a photo of the girls’ dormitory. In that one, you can see the other clones painting. This is where they took all our artwork to choose pieces for the gallery. What’s the gallery, you ask? 

There were so many questions, and so many things the Dupain-Chengs did not understand or even know about the clones. And the questions would highlight things that Marinette and Adrien had taken granted for all their lives. 

They explained how there were always doctors and how they received regular checkups, twice a week to ensure their health. They explained the tracking bracelets they wore – a bracelet that Adrien still wore. And every time Marinette and Adrien answered these questions, they would see a look of sudden understanding on the Dupain-Chengs’ faces. Though they were the ones answering the questions, Marinette couldn’t help but feel like there was something she wasn’t getting. 

Still, the photographs offered more insight than Marinette or Adrien could ever give about their lives. It was the best aid they had in conveying what exactly their lives were like. What Sabine remembered from her time at Francoise Dupont, she would use to help her understand the rest of it, and it seemed that Tom and Bridgette understood her explanations better.  

“Why did you all have so many drama classes?” Tom would ask. 

“Drama?” Adrien or Marinette would respond.

“Yes, there are so many pictures of you all on the stage and with those props.” Still, neither Adrien or Marinette would understand.  

Then Sabine would cut in and explain, “Darling, those aren’t drama classes. Those were their world preparation classes. They never left the school so they had to learn how to order food at a restaurant, or how to look at things in a shop.” 

And then there would be that look of sudden understanding again on Tom’s face, and Marinette and Adrien would glance at each other, knowing that there was something they were missing.

When the group moved on, passed the second album and onto the third, however, Sabine couldn’t help explain. She didn’t know what the clones experienced beyond the schools. The halfway homes were a mystery, and the hospitals even more so. Marinette found that it was easier to explain those though. The major differences had already been highlighted by the upbringing at Francoise Dupont, and those questions had already been dealt with. And anyway, the halfway homes were only a brief moment in the lives of clones, and when Marinette explained her carer training, it was very much like the training that a nurse might undergo. Adrien also found the hospitals easy to explain. There was a set routine that he went through: pre-donation, donation, post-donation, recovery, and then a brief period of rest before the cycle began again. There wasn’t anything too complicated to it. 

With the photographs as visual aids, and occasional segues into anecdotes and examples, Marinette and Adrien painted a pretty complete picture of what it was like to be a clone. They talked about their friends and classmates and other clones they had met. They told the Dupain-Chengs the story of the deferrals and of Mirielle and Theo. They even told them about the trip to Calais and the false hope that Chloé had given them before she completed. They told them everything and at the end of it all, Marinette asked if they wanted to see the video of Alya’s last donation. 

“Every donation is different. It depends on what the donor is giving away, but the kidney is a pretty standard procedure,” Marinette says. “I understand that we’ve already given you a lot to… digest, but this is a really big part of our lives.”  _ ‘The most important part, really.’ _

“Oh, gosh, Marinette, how do I explain this?” Bridgette starts. Tom puts a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.  

“Marinette,” Tom says. “Another time, perhaps?” 

Adrien looks at Tom, a puzzled look on his face.  

“These… medical procedures are normal for you. But for us, if we’re healthy, it’s not something we see often. Watching a surgery… it’s well, we haven’t developed a clinical detachment to it like you have,” Bridgette says. She speaks slowly, being careful with her words and picking her phrases carefully.  

Marinette and Adrien look to each other. The way Bridgette put it wasn’t the best, but it Marinette and Adrien knew she wasn’t trying to offend them. “Another time then,” Adrien agrees, looking to Tom.  

“But thank you, for… sharing this. Sharing everything. It means a lot to me – to us,” Sabine reaches out and takes Marinette’s hand in hers. “I feel I understand you better even if only a little.” 

Marinette smiles at her would-be mother, “Thank you for listening.”

They pull away from each other and there’s a silent moment. It isn’t awkward, but it’s the first bout of silence they’ve had since they started talking. Bridgette catches Marinette’s eye, and the sisters smile at each other. An understanding passes between them. 

Adrien tugs on Marinette’s hand, interrupting the moment. “I think I should be getting back to the hospital. It’s getting late.” They had been talking for so long,  

“You’re welcome to stay longer,” Tom says.  

“No thank you, Adrien needs to be back at the hospital,” Marinette says. Though she and Adrien both thank Tom for the pastries and Sabine for the tea. They apologize one last time for their abrupt visit and the Dupain-Chengs walked them to the door. 

They watched as Marinette and Adrien disappeared down the street. Adrien turned to wave while Marinette only casted a glance over her shoulder. When they were out of sight, Sabine let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and Tom’s shoulders visibly dropped with the release of tension. Bridgette looked between her parents, and smiled, putting a hand on her parents’ shoulders.  

“I think she likes you guys.”

 

* * *

 

"Caline," Felix winces. Caline takes the pen and forms from Felix's shaking hands. She can't believe she's agreed to all this. She couldn't understand why Felix would give up his life – and for a clone, no less. She glances up at Nathalie and Felix. They’re watching her, waiting, so she finally signs her name and hands the papers to Nathalie. She looks it over to make sure there were no mistakes before slipping the papers into a folder and carefully putting them away in her bag.

Felix sighs, but then winces, clutching his abdomen. "You've been off the painkillers for too long," Caline says, moving to the dials.  She begins her work to make Felix comfortable in his sickness – he looked much worse these days. His watery eyes and pale cheeks were sunken. He'd lost quite a bit of colour and looked like a ghost of the lively boy he once was. He was suffering so much for something so futile.

"It was necessary," Nathalie replies. "His mind couldn't be altered or else this wouldn't hold up in court." Caline can't help but think Nathalie's a little too calculating – a little too cold. Did she even care for Felix? Nathalie had changed since Angeline passed. How could she detach herself from Felix's pain and spur him on for such ridiculous goals? 

"She's right," Felix says. "If we did this later, I would be too sick and they would argue over validity and my state of mind forever until Adrien completed." 

"Well they can't argue that now," Caline reassured him. As much as she was uncomfortable with all this, as his personal nurse and with her medical expertise, she was the perfect witness to testify to his mental state. 

Nathalie nodded, "your part is done now, Felix." Something in her voice caught and as Caline finished adjusting the painkillers, she looked up at her colleague. Nathalie was biting the inside of her cheek, her eyebrows knit together in concern. A twinge went through Caline as she observed Nathalie. Maybe she wasn’t as cold as she thought. 

With the drugs taking effect, it doesn’t take long for Felix to fall unconscious. Caline turned to watch over Felix’s readings on the machine, and Nathalie stayed in the room. “Was there something else that you needed?” Caline prompted. 

Nathalie was silent at first, but then she stepped closer to the bedside and kneeled so that she was level with Felix. She pulled his covers up higher and brushed a lock of hair from his face. “This isn’t easy on me either.” Caline looks up from the screens and the readings to Nathalie. She waits for Nathalie to continue. “You probably think this is crazy.”

“I think you’ve been filling his head with crazy ideas, yes,” Caline nods at Felix. “I’ve raised him since Angeline passed. He’s always been sympathetic to them, but he never took it this far. To be honest, I didn’t think you cared much for clones either.” 

“Why would you think that?” Nathalie asked, standing up again.

“Look at what you do for a living – wouldn’t it be easier if you  _ didn’t _ care about them?” Nathalie considered her words for a moment but then smiled. 

“We use them up and then throw them out. That’s what they’re there for, right?” But the question was rhetorical. “You might think this job would be easier if I didn’t care but, Caline, you can’t do this job and not come to care for them. Even you’re uncomfortable around clones and it’s because you know that deep down what we do to them is wrong.”

“But how could anything be worth more than Felix’s life?”

“Gabriel had the same idea. He thought that he would do anything for his family. He thinks he’s justified and that he can do anything as long as it saves Felix. But that’s not right. People were hurt and it was wrong.” Nathalie sighed. “Nothing is worth more than a person’s life.”

“But then Felix –”

Nathalie shook her head and walked to the door, making her exit. “Nothing is worth more than a person’s life. Not even another life.”

 

* * *

 

Adrien blinked up at the white ceiling. For a second, he forgot where he was and whimpered, but it only took a moment for the sleep to clear from his mind and for him to realize he was safe. He groaned, pushing himself up from the bed, and rubbed his eyes. His sketchbook sat in his lap, though his pencil was lost somewhere in the sheets. He’d been napping too much lately, and felt lethargic.  

With heavy limbs, he patted the bedding around him until he found his pencil. He flipped to a new page in his sketchbook and began another sketch. This time it was Nino. Or rather, an imagined version of his friend sitting on the grass, listening to music, and a bubble blower in hand. Adrien wondered what Nino looked like now as he shaded the sketch in. He flipped through one of Alya’s albums, trying to imagine his best friend but older.

At his request, Marinette had left one of the albums at the hospital for him. He flipped through it, taking in the past and letting it drag up old memories of the only time he had ever had to really enjoy life. With all these memories swirling in his mind, he became restless, and took up art again. A few sketches here and there. Never anything that took too much time or commitment. No large, elaborate paintings. Just simple pencil and paper. Sometimes coloured pencil, or a pen if he felt brave enough and confident enough that he wouldn’t make a mistake. 

Adrien set his pencil down on the nightstand when he finished the sketch. It was good, but he had a million of them now. So many pencil sketches littered the floor. The nurses had scolded him for it because it got in the way of their job – bringing him meals and checking on his vitals constantly.  

He studied his sketch. Nino looked just as he did in his mind’s eye, but he wondered what his friend really looked like now. He pushed away a thought at the back of his mind – Rose was his carer now, so why hadn’t she called? He set the sketchbook on the bed and glanced around the room.  

The walls were bare. He’d taken all of the art down the night they discovered the truth of the deferrals. They’d just been reminders of the pain they felt. But Adrien frowned. Without the art, the images that Marinette had evoked, it felt lonely in here.  

He rolled out of bed. A glance at the clock told him that Marinette would not be here for another few hours. Their time apart from each other, even if it was just for a little while, was always the worst. Time was so limited and every moment apart was a waste.  

With a sigh, Adrien found the tape on the table and began putting up the sketches. He put up the coloured sketches on the wall directly opposite from his bed. That way, they’d be the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning. When he ran out of sketches, he took out his older art, the pieces he had done leading up to the deferral and before all that. Anything that had colour, he hung.  

It took him awhile, but it he covered all the walls and it had taken his mind off the time. He sat back and admired his work. He felt comforted with colour around him. More than that, it reminded him that there was still hope. Felix would see to that. 

With a grin, he laid back and –  

The white ceiling loomed over him and he shivered at the sight of it. Even with all these pieces on the walls, he’d wake up to that same white ceiling.  

“What are you doing?” Adrien sits up to find Marinette entering the room. She sets her bag on a chair and looks around her. “What is all this?” 

He shrugs. “I missed you. Felt lonely.” His expression is more sheepish than embarrassed and Marinette’s touched by his admission. It was these little gestures he did that made her fall for him. She walks towards him and greets him with a kiss. His hands seek hers, pulling her close. She stands in front of him, his knees on each side of her. The loneliness fades and Adrien feels a little better already.  

“Though, you know,” Marinette gestures to the walls, eyes roving over his pieces with a wistful smile as she recalls the little moments behind them. He follows her small movements, captivated. “The nurses are going to complain whether it’s on the floor or the walls.” 

She's right of course, but he shrugs and makes room on the bed next to him for her to sit proper. “I don’t like the walls being bare, that’s all,” he admits. “I hate that it’s the first thing I see when I wake up. I wish I could wake up to you every morning instead.” 

His arm wraps around her middle as he speaks, turning to hide his face in the crook of her neck. 

Marinette laughs. “You’re ridiculously cheesy,” she teases him, but it is a lovely thought. To wake up and see sunlight embodied wrapped around her, to feel his warmth and kiss him awake each morning—it’s all she wants from this world. 

She feels his smile against her skin. “We don’t have time to be coy.” 

She rolls her eyes at him but can’t help the giggle that escapes her. The brush of his lips against her neck sends a pleasant jolt through her and she hums. “Well, actually, you wake up to  _ that _ every morning,” Marinette points upwards, watching him as he shifts his gaze to the white speckled ceiling. 

He sighs, though he’s oddly happy with how in tune they are with one another. “I was actually just thinking about that when you came in.” 

“Really now?”

“Yeah. I really hate white.” His dislike borders on childishness. It’s illogical and he knows it but it doesn’t lessen his complete and utter disdain for it. As his gaze shifts from the ceiling to Marinette, he thinks about how much more he prefers black. The darkness of her hair, for one. The safety of the night. The company of his shadow. He catches her eyes and then thinks maybe he prefers colours to shades. Yes, he likes blue the most.

“Why not paint it then?” Marinette asks. “You don’t have to do the whole ceiling. Just the space above your bed. I think I could find you a stool or something to reach up there.” 

“Really?” He’s not sure if she’s just humouring him but he perks up at the suggestion and at the chance to break some rules. “What should I paint? More portraits of you?”

Marinette blushes, but she waves the suggestion away. Ah, maybe he prefers pink after all. “Anyway,  I don’t think the nurses would catch on right away.” There’s mischief in her eyes and he delights in it.

The grin on his face matches hers. “You’re a terrible enabler.” 

“Who, me? I’m just doing my best to look after my donor,” Marinette tilts her head, looking to the side in mock innocence. She reaches out a hand and pulls Adrien to his feet. “Come on, I’ll even help you.”

 

* * *

 

Gabriel barely glances up from his desk when Nathalie enters his office. She hands him a file and he flips it open as she begins to recap her findings. “As you said, his calls are to a boulangerie downtown.” Gabriel nods, and gestures for Nathalie to move onto new information. “I believe he is talking to a Mademoiselle Bridgette Dupain-Cheng, the daughter of the owners of the establishment.”  

“And her connection to Felix?” 

“There shouldn’t be anything. They run in completely different circles.”  

Gabriel regards this bit of information. Why would this girl get involved with his family? Did she have anything to do with the clones or Adrien? “Is she in love with my son?” 

Love. That was always a motivator for irrational thinking. 

“No, though they seem to be on close terms. A good friend, perhaps.” 

“Is my son in love with her?” 

Nathalie raises an eyebrow. “Not to my knowledge.” 

“Good friends, you say,” Gabriel repeated her words. He tapped his finger on the wooden desk before him and glanced once more at Nathalie. Platonic love was a strong motivator too. But that was beside the question. They had to have met somewhere. What was it that connected them and brought them together in the first place? Gabriel stood. “Tell me about the owners of the establishment.” 

Nathalie glanced down at her tablet. “A couple. Monsieur Tom Dupain-Cheng, and Madame Sabine Dupain-Cheng. They opened the boulangerie over two decades ago. Their daughter was born a few years after that.”  

“Any obvious connections to my son with them?” 

“No. I don’t believe Felix has spoken to the owners, or they may have, but only in passing.” 

This family was such an unknown. But they had to have something to do with all of this, he was certain of it. “Has the family ever come to the institute?

Nathalie paused, “I did not looked into that.”

Gabriel leaned back in his chair. Nathalie was thorough. She would have never overlooked a detail or connection, no matter how small or tenuous. He was onto something then. “Leave that to me. I would like to personally look into this,” Gabriel instructed and Nathalie nodded. He studied her reaction carefully, but she wasn’t giving anything away.

 

* * *

 

The sun was setting by the time the two of them finished. They both grinned, heads tilted upwards to admire their work. Adrien laid down and tugged at her hip.

“Lie down,” he said, patting the space next to him on the bed. She put down the paint brush and obliged, snuggling into his side. They both looked up at his ceiling. They had painted a beautiful city scape and in the dying sunlight that filtered into the room, the scene was magical. It took on a distant, dreamy quality. It looked as though there were looking at Paris from a rooftop somewhere. “I love it,” Adrien said, kissing the side of her head. 

Marinette smiled. “I haven’t drawn or painted in years. It was fun.” She turned her gaze from the ceiling to him. There was a smear of blue paint across his cheek but he looked happy. Content. She wanted him to always look like this so she kissed him.

Laughing, Adrien asked, “what was that for?”

“I love you,” Marinette said. He blinked at her, eyes softening.

He didn’t miss a beat, pulling her closer and telling her, “I love you, too.” The sun had fully set now, but the darkness hadn’t completely settled. Marinette felt a hazy warmth in her chest. Though their arms were aching from holding paints and brushes above their heads for so long it had been a near perfect afternoon. She wanted more moments like this where they could be silly and laugh and waste the afternoon away. Though it was a playful comment, Adrien had been right. They didn’t have time to be coy.

As the light faded, Adrien’s smile relaxed and his eyes grew heavy. She stroked his cheek with her hand, wiping the blue smudge from his face. Before long, his eyes fluttered close and Marinette wasn’t far behind.

 

* * *

 

It’s late, but Gabriel couldn’t let the idea go. Whether or not Nathalie had intentionally overlooked the Dupain-Chengs, Gabriel had finally found a gap in Nathalie’s impeccable work and now he needed to know for sure that there was something there. He had reviewed the files that Nathalie had given him to be sure he was familiar with them. He reads and memorizes these facts about a girl and family he’s never met. He memorizes the photos. A girl with dark hair and blue eyes. A tall man and his short wife. The black and gold sign of their boulangerie. He commits it all to memory.

The Dupain-Chengs. What part did they play? In the photos that Nathalie gathered, they looked like a perfect family, all wide smiles and bright faces. A couple and their child. They looked like they had everything he had ever wanted… How was it fair that this family was whole, complete… happy even, while his family was broken? He did so much to hold onto the pieces he had left, and Felix resented him for it.  

Gabriel stops his train of thought there. Jealousy was unbecoming. Instead, he abandons the files and heads to the archives to find his files on past patients. For years, he had kept hold of every file or report that crossed his desk. Anyone who had ever sought the institute for help had a file there. Still, as he browsed the shelves, looking for the ‘D’ section, he couldn’t help but clench his fists. It was unfair. 

He stops in front of the shelf he was looking for and flipped through the files, scanning through the names until he finds it. Dupain-Cheng.  

There was only one file. Just as he thought, Dupain-Cheng was a unique name. He pulls the folder from its place. It was slim and easily lost among the other folders. He wonders if Nathalie really had made an honest mistake and missed the file, or if it’s more likely that she buried it. She was good at her work, she shouldn’t have missed it, but at the same time, it shouldn’t have been this easy to find the file if Nathalie wanted it hidden. 

He takes the file and heads back to his office, mind adrift with thoughts of this family. He had a file on them which means his hunch was right and they had received some kind of treatment from the institute – it meant that his research had helped keep a family together when it couldn’t help his own. 

Gabriel turns a corner and finds himself wandering again. Perhaps this was all a mistake. Perhaps he had gone about everything all wrong. He had spent too much time at the institute with his research when he should have been spending the little time he had with his family. For a second, he hates himself. Hadn’t he already learned that lesson with Angeline? And somehow her passing had just pushed him further in the wrong direction.  

A loud clatter interrupts his thoughts. When he looks in the direction it came from, he sees the hall that leads to Felix’s room. He nearly drops the file as he runs. 

* * *

 

Felix gasps for a breath. He had woken up half paralyzed and aching and now he was struggling to keep himself upright. He feels so drained, and everything hurts. He leans against the side of the bed for support, but it’s not much help. His legs are about to give out on him so he slides to the floor. He rests his head on the side of the bed, and a shiver runs down his spine. Everything is hazy – had Caline upped his dosage to help him sleep? What had Nathalie told him to do in these moments?  

To focus on his breathing.  

To think about the people he will save – the boy who was his clone and the love of his life. The whole lot of them.  

His pain was significant, but their lives even more so. This episode would pass.  

Or was this is? Maybe this wasn’t just an episode. Maybe this time he’d really die. 

Well shit.  

He wasn’t scared of dying. He had come to terms with it a long time ago, but right now… he couldn’t die now. There were still things he had to do first – the will was taken care of but he still needed to talk Adrien one last time. He had to make sure everything would work. He had to see his father. He still had so much to do – 

The pills. Of course. Nathalie had given him painkillers.  

He reaches into his pocket, and with shaky hands, he tries to open it. He curses the damn seal on the lid and sets the bottle in his lap as he tries to calm himself. When he tries to open it again, the lid flips off with more force than intended and pills scatter the floor.  

There are footsteps outside. At first, Felix thinks it’s Nathalie or Caline. They could help chase the pain away and he’d make it through this. Felix coughs, sputtering. 

“Caline? I… help,” he manages, dazed. He looks up, expecting to see his nurse, but then his father’s face comes into focus instead.

Fuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted to end this chapter on the word “fuck” okay? I felt it was an apt summation of everything :D  
> Anyway, I'm going to try to post the next chapter next week cause I'm going away for vacation and I don't want to make you wait too long - not after I made y'all wait two years.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated. Hit me up on [tumblr](http://landofoz.tumblr.com/)


	12. The Hospital, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Felix does his best, Gabriel reacts badly and Nathalie is DONE.
> 
> Warnings: The third and final character death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit’s about to go down. Sorry for the plot heavy chapter, haha and also sorry I didn't get this out at the promised time. But I hope it was still worth the wait! Also, thank you to [Escurochi](http://escurochi.tumblr.com) who beta'd again and helped me come up with an appropriate insult in the last line. 
> 
> Suggested listening: Moonlight on the River by Mac Demarco

Felix had tried to talk to him – tried to explain – but Gabriel wouldn’t listen. Instead, he questioned his son about his plan. He wouldn’t try to understand why Felix was doing what he was doing. He only worked to stop it. And though Felix refused to answer those questions, Gabriel had already started to piece together what was going on.

Initially, Felix fought him and pushed him away when Gabriel tried to help him off the floor. But he was hurting and weak; there was no strength in his pushes. Wordlessly, Gabriel lifted him off the floor and tucked him into bed. He ignored the pills scattered on the floor and retrieved Felix’s regular medication, watching him take it before he attached him to an IV and dispensed the sleep drugs.

Now, as Gabriel sat in a chair next to the bed, he leafed through the Dupain-Cheng file as Felix slept peacefully. As he had already gathered, the Dupain-Chengs had come to the Institute for help. Years ago, Sabine Cheng and her husband Thomas Dupain had wanted a child but they were unable to conceive. The Institute took sperm and egg samples from them, cloning the zygote and incubating the copies until a successful embryo emerged. As part of the agreement, the Dupain-Chengs received their child and the Institute made a clone for research.

Gabriel had not handled this file back then but he had a suspicion that once the Institute had finished whatever study or research it was conducting on the Dupain-Cheng embryo clone, it donated it to the organ farming program. After all, why let a perfectly good clone go to waste? All Gabriel had to do was return to his office and dig up the electronic record of this and his theory would be confirmed. But Gabriel didn’t want to leave Felix’s side. Not yet.

He put the Dupain-Cheng file down and reached out to brush Felix’s hair from his face. Felix resembled his mother so much it hurt to look at him sometimes.

“What are you doing, contacting the family of a clone?” Gabriel asked aloud. All he got in response was the steady rise and fall of Felix’s breathing. “Why can’t you understand that I just want to save you?”

He brushes another lock of hair from Felix’s forehead and Felix stirs. He can’t quite believe that Felix has grown up as much as he has – not only because his son is living on borrowed time, but that he’s become his own, independent person. It’s a silly thought - of course Felix would be his own person - but Gabriel still remembers that sickly, little boy confined to his bed. Who knew Felix would come so far?

He marvels at his son, reminding himself that that is exactly the reason why he is working as hard as he is; so that Felix could continue to grow and live. With a sigh, Gabriel leans down and kisses Felix’s forehead. He picks up the Dupain-Cheng file before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Caline slips into Felix’s room soon after Gabriel leaves. She looks around briefly, taking in the scene. Pills are still scattered on the ground, and his medical readings are stabilized. She sighs, figuring out how badly she had messed up and wondering how much Gabriel knew now. When Felix stirred, she put all that aside and went to him.

His voice is muffled by a mask, but she lifts it for him. “Does he know?” She nods in response and Felix shuts his eyes tight. A groan escapes him.

“Are you in pain??”

“Take me to a hospital.”

“What?!” Caline lets go of the mask and it snaps back onto Felix’s face. He winces. “Sorry, but are you crazy?”

He lifts his mask himself. “If I’m admitted, he can’t get to me.”

“You can’t take up a bed at a hospital and refuse treatment, Felix. They’d kick you out.” She doesn’t mention the field day journalists would have – Gabriel Agreste not treating his own son? There was a story there… hell, Felix so much as stepping foot outside of his secluded life was a story.

“But I can’t be here.”

Caline sighed. This was beyond what she had agreed to. She was only supposed to be a witness to his will and a medical expert. 

“Please,” Felix groans. He puts the mask back on, looking up at her with his green eyes. She wondered what Nathalie would do.

 

* * *

 

 

“I know you gave him the pills,” Gabriel says as Nathalie enters the office.

Somehow, she had expected this. She hadn’t known when Gabriel would find out and she doesn’t know how much he knows yet but she figured that she wouldn’t be able to keep her plans hidden from him for very long. “I will collect my things,” she replied, already anticipating his next words.

“I’m disappointed, Nathalie.” Gabriel continued, “I’ve pieced enough together to know why you’re doing this but I still don’t  _ understand _ .” His brow is furrowed and even though he’s reclining in his leather chair, his finger tapping on the wooden desk gives away the tension he really feels.

“You understand very clearly why I’m doing this,” Nathalie says cooly. She sees his brows knit together and he leans forward, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. Nathalie doesn’t hesitate to sit.

“We’ve been colleagues for a long time,” Gabriel starts. “Let’s drop all this pretension.”

She considers this for a moment. “Do you remember why I started working for you?”

“I knew you were Angeline’s friend. I thought I would interview you as a favour but you blew all the other candidates out of the water...” Gabriel trails off, thinking back twenty-some years ago. “But we didn’t meet through Angeline. We had a common goal. You came to me because you loved Angeline too.” Gabriel stated it as a fact, not a question. He had known for a long time. “Tell me, why did you stay after… after we failed?”

Despite this unspoken promise to be truthful, Nathalie couldn’t tell him it was out of guilt. “Because I thought maybe we could do something for others with her affliction,” she says instead. She feels a strange mix of things thinking back to that time. She’s bitter but nostalgic about it all… and then she remembers what she did for Adrien too and then she feels proud.

“You’re a better person than me,” Gabriel says. “Even with everything that’s come between us, thank you for everything. I don’t think I could have survived after Angeline if it hadn’t been for you.”

“Sure you would. You have Felix.”

Gabriel smiles. It comes across bitter.. “You’d have him dead though.”

Nathalie shakes her head. “I don’t want Felix to die.”

He laughs dryly and then makes a vague gesture in the air. “You want him to die so Adrien can live. Why else would we be here right now?”

Nathalie folds her hands in her lap. “Gabriel, you and I have always wanted the same thing. Whether or not Felix wants that too is up to him.”

“And who put these ideas into his head? Adrien’s not even a  _ person. _ ”

Anger flares in the pit of Nathalie’s stomach. She had that same thought once, but not anymore. “You don’t believe that,” she says, remembering how he reacted when Adrien, only a boy at the time, had asked him why it hurt. Gabriel had that same expression on his face now. So that was it. He was in denial. He wouldn’t be able to do all this if he wasn’t.

But Gabriel doesn’t say anything so Nathalie continues.

“Felix has always thought of clones as people. You know how he used to visit his past donors. He’s just finally able to do something about it.”

Gabriel gives a frustrated sigh. Deep down he knows she’s right but he’s not ready to admit that yet. “He’s really grown up, hasn’t he?” There’s a sense of pride and softness in his expression. Despite everything, he really had done his best. He was a good father.

Nathalie nods and Gabriel finally leans back in his chair. He looks tired. With that, Nathalie stands and heads to the door. Just before she slips out of his office for the last time, she hears him sigh.

“What am I going to do without you?” 

 

* * *

 

 

Without Nathalie, it seemed Gabriel couldn’t keep track of his priorities. All he wanted was to look after Felix. He obsessively scanned his son’s medical readings and monitored his medication. Despite knowing his presence was required at the Institute, he never left the mansion; afraid of being away from Felix for too long. Gabriel was aware he had a number of meetings to attend, but he would lose track of time or he couldn’t be bothered to go. Without Nathalie he retreated into himself. He let his obsession with saving Felix consume him.

Gabriel hadn’t slept in nearly a week. There were times when exhaustion would take him but every time he closed his eyes he would see Angeline on her deathbed and remember that he had failed her. He’d wake with a start and realize how integral Nathalie had been too - not just his success in his work, but to his well-being and mental stability. In the first few days after Angeline passed, Nathalie had been the one to remind him of self-care as he grieved. She ran the mansion while overlooking Felix’s treatments. She did it all through her own grief…

He reminds himself that he had let her go. He couldn’t rely on Nathalie anymore and he hates that he’s fallen apart so much without her…

It’s late at night and he blinks his eyes open. He had fallen asleep at his desk again, but it had been restless unconsciousness. He’s groggy and disoriented. When he rubs a hand down his face and feels the stubble starting to grow, he frowns at himself. He doesn’t care that he looks a mess but he’s always prided himself in his composure. Gabriel sits up straight, shaking the mouse of his computer to wake it from its sleep too. After a second, the screen loads, bringing him back to the clone database. 

Ah yes. His theory had been confirmed. 

The extra embryo from the Dupain-Chengs had been sent to Francoise Dupont. After further research, he found her name - Marinette. Incidentally, while the files had been classified and kept from Gabriel, he discovered that Adrien had been sent to Francoise Dupont as well. Surely the two of them knew each other. 

The third discovery was the final piece of the puzzle - Sabine Dupain-Cheng had briefly taught at the clone school about a decade ago. Of course! That must have been when Sabine made contact with Marinette and now that Marinette was grown up, she must have reached out to Sabine for help.

Under any other circumstance it was extraordinary. No other clone had ever found its origins and no natural human had ever gone looking for their biological clones. The ministry of health and institute went out of its way to anonymize its clones - to cut it off from any past connections that existed. Gabriel was curious as to how Sabine had found her lost daughter and how Marinette was able to keep in touch with her all this time. It was truly a remarkable story. 

Gabriel shut down his computer, too tired to continue his research. He stood and stretched. He could feel the wariness and aching in his back from being hunched over his desk for so long. But he also felt a sense of progress. He was finally able to uncover the truth of what was going on. He had foiled Felix’s plan and now his son was recovering again. He could put a stop to this. He could still save Felix.

Still, the image of Felix on the floor with all those pills scattered around him flashed in his mind. God. 

“ _ I will not accept my next donation, father. _ ” Felix had seethed. “ _ You cannot force me. _ ” 

That defiance - that flame in Felix. He was so alike his mother. Gabriel felt a twinge of bittersweet pride. His son was so ready to  _ die  _ and he was still so  _ young. _ The worst was that he was right. It was the crux of the situation - as the Director of Research at the institute, Gabriel was free to do what he wanted with the clones in the name of science. He was allowed anything to better the lives of people everywhere, but he could not force those people to accept that care. Gabriel could take all he wanted from Adrien. He could schedule donation after donation, but if Felix didn’t consent to it, then it was all for naught.  

Gabriel left his office and started down the hall towards Felix’s room, the image of his son distraught and a complete mess on the ground still fresh in his mind. Felix had been at his lowest but he had stood for his ideals… he felt proud that he had raised his son to be so brave and steadfast… Gabriel turned the corner and shook his head. He stopped in front of Felix’s room, and gently pushed the door open without knocking so as to not disturb his son. 

From where he stood, it looked like Felix was asleep, buried underneath his covers. All the machines beeped steadily. The quick glance settled Gabriel’s worries and he headed off to his own room.

Gabriel was  _ tired. _ He felt it to his core, but he had to push on through. He would go to bed and rest tonight, but he still had so much to do. Years ago, he had been unable to save Angeline. His research had not progressed enough, and he had been unprepared for her relapse. Now, he had all the things he needed to save Felix, but he was unwilling. As proud as he was of his son’s bravery, it would have to be short lived.  

 

* * *

 

 

Bridgette was at a complete loss for what to do. For days, she had been trying to reach Felix but he never answered. She was so worried - he never even explained his plan to her and she didn’t know whether or not she should tell Marinette about the deferral. All the while, Sabine and Tom didn’t know how to help their daughter. And while Marinette would sometimes call and ask for Bridgette, they would make excuses for why Bridgette couldn’t come to the phone… and a little selfishly, they would turn the conversation towards Marinette, asking her about herself and her life and trying to get to know their lost daughter better.

And then Felix turned up out of the blue.

He was exhausted and she helped him in immediately. His personal nurse, Caline, had brought him to the boulangerie as a compromise. Felix wanted to go to the hospital but she had refused, insisting that he should remain in his father’s care. But Felix wouldn’t stay in the mansion so Bridgette’s was the next best option. 

“You’re insane,” she told him. She’d given up her room to him and would set up blankets and a pillow in the living room downstairs for herself. Caline had brought the absolutely essential medical equipment and drugs and helped set everything up in Bridgette’s room before heading down to the bakery to allow the two some privacy. Felix sat in the chaise lounge, watching as she gathered her things from the room. “I was freaking out when I couldn’t get in touch and then you show up without any warning -”

Felix gave her a tired laugh. “I’m sorry. A lot’s happened.”

At that, Bridgette turned and walked over to him. “What’s happened? Did anything change?”

Felix shook his head. “No deferral, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He paused and took a breath. When he noticed Bridgette’s face fall, he reached out and lifted a hand to her chin, nudging her gently. “Don’t worry. I told you I had a plan.”

“I know, but I’m tired of keeping things from Marinette. Tell me what’s going on and let me tell her too,” she said, sliding onto the chaise next to him.

Felix closed his eyes. He wondered how he could speak his mind. “I want to live,” he told her. “But not like this.”

“What do you mean?”

He opened his eyes, turning away from her to look around her brightly decorated room. He thought about his own room back at his father’s mansion; bare walls and bookshelves. He’d spent more than half his life lying in bed staring at those bare walls and bookshelves. “I used to think that I would get better, you know? My parents had always been hopeful,” Felix said. He paused to take a breath, “but I’m terminal. I don’t get much better than this.” He turned his attention back to her and lifted his arms in a vague gesture to his condition. Healthwise, he’d been doing well having been in his father’s care for the last few days but his illness was ever present. “I’m okay  _ now _ but it’s only a matter of time before I’m bedridden again. Then I won’t be able to do anything by myself… I won’t be able to live the way I want.”

She frowned at him, “Where are you going with this?”

“I’ve been thinking…” He thought back to his mother and her last days. “What if i stopped receiving donations? What if I just unhooked myself from all those machines and stopped taking my medication? What if I just lived without worrying or thinking about all of this?” He wondered if she understood what he meant. “What if I just lived my life?”

It slowly dawned on her what he was talking about. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “ But I’d get to live the way I’ve always wanted.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Bridgette pressed him. 

“Since before mother died.” Felix hummed. “It had always just been a thought at the back of my mind. I never thought I’d act on it.”

“Then why do you want to now?”

Felix reached for her hand, stroking the back of her hand. He liked that he could finally say these things out loud. He barely knew Bridgette and she knew next to nothing about his life, but maybe that’s what allowed him to speak so freely. “Because before now it would have been selfish. If I went through with it then I’d be letting my mother and father down. I’d be letting all of their hard work, and Caline’s and Nathalie’s too, go to waste.” He struggled to find the right words. “But then Adrien came along and… and maybe now I can feel like I won’t just be dying. Maybe it won’t be selfish and my death will mean more than just that.” 

He studied her expression, analyzing her reaction. Confusion and worry were evident on her face. 

“I just want to live how I’ve always wanted and if it means I can help Adrien and all these other clones too, then all the better, right?”

“I… I don’t think dying is the answer,” Bridgette said. “Why does everyone seem to think that it is?”

Felix shook his head, “That’s not what I’m trying to say. It’s not really dying. It’s living the way I want." Bridgette didn’t look like she was on his side with this. He sighed, but he hadn’t expected her to understand. Not really anyway. “My father didn’t understand either. That’s why everything is the way it is now.”

“What?”

“He hasn’t always been like this. He used to be kind but mom’s death wrecked him.” Felix’s childhood had always been strict and supervised but there had been more lenient days where he could get away with a break in his diet or an afternoon in the park. After Angeline had passed, however, those days disappeared. “I know he loves me, but it’s suffocating. He started the whole clone program to try and save mom and me. When he couldn’t save mom, I was all that was left. I think in saving me, he can forgive himself for her death.”

“That… that’s...”

“Messed up? Yeah. Sorry.” He pulled his hand away from hers, a nervous laugh escaping him. He hadn’t meant to say  _ this _ much. Bridgette watched as he retreated into himself. 

“No, I mean… yes, but that’s not… what I mean is, you know it’s not on you to shoulder his guilt, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why I want to do this. I want to live for myself – not for anyone else. And if that means it’s a shorter life then so be it.”

Bridgette bit the inside of her cheek and exhaled. She didn’t know what to say. She hardly knew Felix and she had no bearing on his life. Still, sitting at his bedside discussing his death was awfully morbid and whether he was a stranger or not, she didn’t want him to die… 

No, that wasn’t it. He didn’t really want to die, at least not in the way he phrased it. She turned his words over in her head. What he was talking about was just another way of living. Bridgette rested a hand on his shoulder and wondered if maybe – yes, he was ill but maybe the worst part of it wasn’t that he was going to die but that he was trapped in this life he didn’t want. 

“So then what now?” 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s well past midnight when Marinette’s phone goes off. She’s groggy but manages to grab it off the nightstand. Adrien groaned at her shifting as she sat up and left him in bed. She stepped out of his room into the hospital hallway, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm as she answered. 

“Hello?” she said, voice rough with sleep. Though she was in the hall she kept her voice low.

“I’m sorry I’m calling so late. I just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible,” Bridgette said. 

“Is everything okay?” Marinette asked, waking herself a bit more. She rubbed a hand down her face, missing the warmth of Adrien wrapped around her. She peered into the room and he was hugging a pillow in her place. Clearly he missed her warmth too.

“Um, yes and no. It’s… a long story, but Felix is here right now.”

“What?” Marinette’s full attention was on Bridgette now. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fuzzy on the details too, but he showed up at my door. He said he couldn’t stay at home anymore,” Bridgette explained. Marinette held her breath. 

“And the deferral?” she asked. Bridgette’s silence was more than enough to tell her the answer. “I… I didn’t think it would happen anyway.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Marinette replied, voice even quieter. Her heart sank, and as her gaze fell on Adrien again, her chest ached. He was so hopeful through everything and now… what was there left to hope for?

“There’s actually something I wanted to ask you though,” Bridgette said.

“What?” Marinette couldn’t stop her voice from breaking. She felt tears prickling in her eyes and she wiped them away. She held it together though.

“Well, it’s Felix. But he’s sleeping right now. He wanted me to ask you if he could take you and Adrien out for a day.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to apologize to you and Adrien for everything.”

“He did his best. He tried, and we’re thankful already,” Marinette replied.

Bridgette sighed, “he feels really bad about the deferral. He wants to make it up to you guys somehow.”

Marinette chewed her bottom lip. “Can I think about it? He’s asleep. I can talk to him about it in the morning and get back to you then.”

“That’s fine...” Bridgette replied. “You’re staying at the hospital now?”

Marinette nodded though Bridgette couldn’t see her. “Neither of us like being apart for very long… we… we’ve lost too much to not appreciate the little that we have.”

Bridgette’s heart broke for her sister. Marinette deserved so much. She deserved better luck than she had been allotted. “I understand. Sorry again for waking you.”

“You’re apologizing a lot,” Marinette noted. She yawned. 

“I’m sorry - I mean...”

“No, it’s alright,” Marinette replied. 

“I’ll let you get back to bed now. Good night, Marinette.”

“Hey Bridgette?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for… letting me know and not sugar coating it. I do appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Good night,” Marinette said before hanging up. She headed back to bed, placing her phone back on the nightstand and crawling under the covers. She latched onto Adrien. Even in his sleep, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. 

Marinette lay there, listening to the even rise and fall of his breathing, unable to fall asleep with the news of the deferral weighing on her. As her heart broke for them – as the world fell apart around them, he slept. He was so peaceful, so completely unaware and forever hopeful. Marinette wondered how she should tell him and how to ask him about Felix’s request. She watched his sleeping face, took in his softness and felt the tears coming back. All she could do was bury her face in his chest and cry silently.

Though there was no set date the knowledge that their time would come to an end cut her deeper than any surgical knife ever would. It left a hole in her, not-unlike the holes that would be there when she lost her kidney, her liver, or whatever else the doctors decided to take from her. And she knew they’d take her heart too. And here was Adrien, already full of holes and still giving. Still fighting for just some extra time. They’d both be hollow before that happened.

Adrien woke a short while later. Marinette could tell because his breathing wasn’t as deep and he held her tighter. He stroked her hair until her sobbing died away. She pulled away from his chest, and looked up at him. Adrien, still bleary eyed, brought his hand to her cheek and wiped her tears with his thumb. She leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, finally. 

She shook her head. “Tell me everything will be okay,” she said. “Tell me it’ll all work out and kiss me.”

“Everything will be okay,” he whispered, obliging her. His other hand settled on her waist, pulling her closer to him before he kissed her, long and slow and thick with love. She tasted his breath and lips and she could almost believe him because he still believed it. She pulled away, and he kissed her tear-stained cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair and enjoying their closeness – enjoying his hopeful ignorance. 

She briefly entertained the idea of keeping it this way but lying to him was wrong. After all, when she had kept the fact that Bridgette had found her from him he had been worried. 

_ “When something big like this happens… you don’t have to deal with it yourself. No matter what I’m going through, I want to be there for you too, so don’t keep things from me. Tell me, okay?” _

There was comfort in going through this together and Marinette ran her hand through his hair. Even in the darkness, he was golden. “I talked to Bridgette,” she explained after a long silence. “Felix wants to see us. He wants to apologize.”

Unspoken words hung in the air around them but he would know what she had meant. She watched him carefully to gage his reaction. There was a flicker of something in his green eyes before he leaned down and kissed her again. She could taste her tears on his lips. Was his heart breaking for them too? A twinge went through her. Had she made a mistake in telling him? No, she told herself. They were in this together. Together till the end. 

And sure enough, when Adrien pulled back he looked her in the eyes and said, “Everything will be okay.” That was all the assurance she needed.

 

* * *

 

 

Felix was getting worse. He tried his best to hide it or to brush it off but Bridgette could tell. She saw how he would lean against walls instead of standing on his own. She noticed how he was short of breath after the briefest moments of manual labour. She saw the colour disappear from his cheeks little by little. She saw how the green in his eyes, once the colour of fresh spring leaves turned sickly. He was still able to do things himself, but he was clearly on the decline. 

Today, they were going to meet up with Marinette and Adrien. Marinette had called her back the next day and they talked it out. Tom and Sabine had offered to cook for them all but Felix wanted to go out. That was complicated by the fact that he couldn’t go too far. On top of that, Felix was in hiding. If his father caught word of the outing, then he would drag Felix back to the mansion.

It helped that Felix had led a secluded life before all of this. He was a public figure that very few would recognize. Still, Bridgette couldn’t tell Marinette about these things. Felix had forbidden her from telling anyone of his worsening condition. 

In the end, they had settled on a small bistro close to the boulangerie. Felix and Bridgette had arrived first and waited for Marinette and Adrien. “How did they take it when you told them?”

“I told Marinette. She sounded… heartbroken.”

The door to the restaurant opened then, and Marinette and Adrien entered the bistro. A waiter showed them to the table and they were seated and handed menus. The four of them greeted each other. Felix tried to read the couple – to pick up on some sign of heartbreak or sadness but they looked… fine. It was almost unsettling and Felix was curious. How could it be that they were taking the news of the deferral so well?

The waiter came by with drinks and then took their orders. When they were left alone again, Felix launched into his apology. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry it took so long to tell you and that I couldn’t get you the deferral. I tried to talk to my father --”

It was Adrien who cut him off. “It’s not your fault. You never promised us anything except that you would try and you did.”

Bridgette glanced at the two of them, apprehensive. She then turned her gaze to Marinette and she reaffirmed Adrien’s words. “Really Felix, even this is unnecessary. You’ve done enough for us.”

Bridgette bit her lip and Felix swallowed. Now was neither the time nor place to tell them of his plans. “How are you though?” Bridgette asked. “I should have told you in person.”

Marinette and Adrien shared a glance. A silent conversation took place in tha brief look. “We thought the world might end, but it didn’t,” Marinette said. “We’re still here. We still have time so why waste it crying?”

“We came to that conclusion even before I asked you for the deferral, Felix,” Adrien added. “We’re okay.” 

And with that, Bridgette and Felix visibly relaxed. “I’m glad. I’m really sorry, but I’m glad,” Felix said. An unspoken tension in the air had lifted and Felix smiled.

After that, the rest of the evening was lovely. They had gotten two glances from other diners – after all, they looked like two sets of twins sitting at the table. No one suspected they were clones and originals. No one suspected Felix was Gabriel’s son. They were just a strange spectacle and the two glances were easily brushed off disruptions. As they talked, a bubble formed around them. They were in their own cozy little world. They seemed more like four long-time friends catching up as opposed to what they really were. They joked and told each other about their lives… and funnily enough, Felix’s life was remarkably similar to Adrien’s. Francoise Dupont aside, they had both been raised by Gabriel and Nathalie, they’d both bemoaned the days when they were bedridden and they hated donations and surgeries. 

Marinette talked about her love of sewing and designing and Bridgette talked about applying for culinary school. Adrien talked about art – talked about how he had hated it as a child but that through the encouragement of a former teacher and through his love for Marinette, he had learned to love it. Felix was taken aback with that. He told Adrien how he wanted to see his art – told him he should put on a gallery – but Adrien blushed at the idea, waving it off. Even when Marinette jumped in to sing his praises, Adrien was modest and Felix laughed. It reminded him of how his mother used to sketch and paint. It was never a serious artistic passion. It was only a hobby and that had been her excuse to hide her talent from the world. He didn’t want Adrien to miss out on showing his work like his mother had.

The more Felix talked about his family, the more curious the other three got – Adrien especially. He had always wondered about the family he would supposedly save. He asked Felix more and more questions and learned of a side of Gabriel he had never known, a tender and loving side, that rarely anyone ever got to see anymore. But he also learned about Angeline, a woman who Felix claims would have loved him like her own son. An incredible woman who had raised Felix despite her own hardships and who loved her family fiercely. 

Adrien and Felix’s conversation broke off from Marinette’s and Bridgette’s. There was just so much they had to talk about and so much to learn about each other. Marinette and Bridgette had shared a look, knowing the feeling. They had had the same feeling and moment weeks ago when they first met and it was… remarkable to see it happen between Adrien and Felix. Were all clones and originals so alike? Were they all so curious about each other? It made Marinette think that they were closer to being human than they had been raised to think.

As the boys talked, they found a connection that went beyond their shared DNA. When they talked about their surgeries and donations there was no pity in either of their voices. They simply understood each other. They understood the pain involved and the emptiness and the agonizing hours spent in bed. They understood what it was like to stare at a white wall for hours on end while also being told they were recovering. Their struggles were not so dissimilar and in Adrien, Felix had found a kindred spirit.

And Felix couldn’t be more glad for it. For the first time in his life, he was among friends. He was outside of the mansion and he didn’t worry about eating healthy or any other restrictions imposed on him because of his illness. He looked at Bridgette as she chatted with Marinette. She was engrossed in her conversation – they talked about Marinette’s friend Alya and her pictures. How she had documented their entire lives in photographs and how Alya’s memory could be carried on if only the world could see those photos. Felix felt a swell of gratitude towards Bridgette in that moment. She had made all of this possible – she had opened up his whole world and helped him find acceptance and happiness. She had been his life line when he needed her most. 

Felix felt a kick underneath the table and he looked at Adrien. He gave him a knowing smile and Felix… blushed. He shook his head, but Adrien’s grin just grew wider. 

Maybe, Felix thought, maybe in a different life. In a different time, things would have been better. But he had made his decisions and he was happy with this. If he died tomorrow, it would be without regrets.  

 

* * *

 

 

As it turns out, Felix did not die the next day. But he came close. 

He woke up in the middle of the night gasping for air. Bridgette immediately burst into the room, and went to his side. Caline had taught her what to do in such emergencies but the breathing mask and painkillers could only do so much. When the episode was over Felix and Bridgette both knew he couldn’t hold off going to the hospital for much longer.

“I need to make a call,” Felix whispered, throat raw and voice muffled by the breathing mask. 

“Felix’s it’s past midnight. Who are you calling?” She questioned him but handed him her phone anyway.

He didn’t reply, literally saving his breath, but Bridgette figured it out a moment later. “Hi, it’s me,” Felix spoke in a slow, measured tempo. “I’m going to the hospital tomorrow but I need you to do me a favor.”

“Nathalie?” Bridgette asked. Felix nodded at her.

“Yes, that would be perfect. But I’m going to make a change in the will...” he said, trailing off. He glanced up at Bridgette and she looked away from him towards the door. He wanted privacy so she stood and gave it to him. He seemed fine now… she could go back to sleep.

Bridgette left her room and returned to her makeshift space on the couch in the living room. She wished she could hear the rest of Felix’s conversation but he had been speaking too softly for her to hear. She laid down on the couch, shifting to get comfortable. Tomorrow, she would bring Felix to the hospital and while that meant she would get her comfy bed back, it also meant things were really serious. Felix wouldn’t admit himself so easily otherwise. 

She tried to get more sleep after that, but she remained awake for the rest of the night, too afraid – what if Felix had another episode? Her mind conjured up the worst possible outcomes until the sun rose. 

When she saw Felix the next morning, he looked just as ragged as she did – worse, even. It seemed neither of them slept well. Tom and Sabine didn’t say anything when they saw the pair of them but the worry was evident in their faces. Sabine wordlessly helped Bridgette pack Felix’s things and Tom helped them load the trunk of her car. As the couple bid farewell to Felix, both hugging him tightly and kissing his cheeks, and Bridgette drove him to a hospital, Felix’s mortality weighed heavily on their minds.

* * *

 

 

Nathalie sat in her car, holding her breath and checking the address and directions one last time. It had been a couple of days since she had been fired and in that time she had finally gotten back to her life. She called her father and they talked at length. She cleaned her apartment for the first time in years and returned the calls left on her voicemail. All of it felt like going through the motions though. For over two decades, her life revolved around the Agrestes and now she felt hollowed out. 

Her friends had stopped trying to contact her years ago. She was never able to make it out to reunions and she hardly returned their calls or messages. She regretted those lost connections. She had dedicated too much of herself to them and now that she had left them there was nothing left to her.

Nathalie shook her head, trying hard to put the thought out of mind. Her lack of a personal life and her loneliness were something she preferred to not think about. With a sigh, she got out of her car and walked up to the front doors. After all, she was always most comfortable throwing herself into a task rather than sitting back and contemplating her life. And besides, she had held off on this visit for far too long. 

She walked across the hospital lobby towards the front desk and signed in before she headed to the elevators. As the note in her hand advised her, she pressed the button for the fifth floor. She wondered briefly how Adrien would look now. He and Felix came from the same genetic material but surely there were differences. As the elevator ascended, she thought about their first conversation in years over the phone… she had been short and curt with him, but she hoped that he understood her position and that she still cared for him. Over the phone, he sounded like he had missed her and that brought her some relief. 

The elevator doors opened and she stepped out. She glanced at the note, hastily scribbled down after she had called Marinette. She had told her the address and his room number and they had agreed to meet this afternoon. 

She felt uncharacteristically nervous. She’d been Gabriel Agreste’s personal assistant for over two decades, dealt with the world’s most brilliant scientific minds and the country’s most powerful men on a regular basis but here she was, nervous to meet the boy she had raised for nine years before he was taken away. She shoved the note in her pocket and followed the hospital signs until she found herself standing outside Adrien’s room. The door was ajar but she knocked gently before pushing it open. Marinette and Adrien were both sitting on his bed. Adrien looked up from his sketchbook and Marinette from the files she had been working on. Nathalie gasped as tears starting falling from her eyes.

Oh, he had changed so much.

Adrien dropped the sketchbook and went straight to Nathalie, hugging her. She hugged him back, marvelling at how he was taller than her now – he looked so much like Felix as she had expected but also so much like himself. She saw traces of the little boy she raised. She saw it in the way he carried himself, and how polite he was. But she saw how he had changed, how he smiled the moment he saw her and how he had grown more sure of himself.

When they pulled away from each other, she saw Adrien was crying too. The two of them smiled at each other and Marinette handed them a tissue box. 

As Nathalie wiped her tears away, Adrien offered her a seat by the bed. She took off her coat, draping it on the back of the chair before she sat and pulled out a package from her bag. It was wrapped neatly in brown paper and she handed it to him.. He took it from her, eyebrow raised, questioning her.

“I brought you a book.”

Adrien smiled again, how wonderful and strange it was to see the expression so frequently on his face. “You always brought me a new book when you visited.” He unwrapped the paper neatly, looking down at a copy of  _ Gratitude _ by Oliver Sacks. Adrien put it on his nightstand to read later.

Marinette looked between the two of them, her heart warming at the reunion. They hadn’t seen each other in over a decade so there was some initial awkwardness but she could tell Adrien was happy. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Adrien said. He reached out to Nathalie and took her hand in his. He looked at her, finding little differences in her appearance. She still wore her hair in a tight bun. She still wore the same glasses, but her hair didn’t hold quite the same shine as it used to and she looked tired. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again either,” Nathalie admitted. “But after I left Gabriel’s employ, I didn’t see any reason not to come find you.” Her smile faltered at that. She had mixed feelings still about leaving the institute behind. She didn’t regret it but she had dedicated so much of herself… Nathalie stopped that particular train of thought and turned to Marinette. “Thank you for this. Thank you for arranging everything and thank you for looking after Adrien.” 

Adrien blushed at that; he felt a fondness and love for Nathalie that he couldn’t quite explain… he felt like the way Felix talked about his mother. 

Marinette smiled, “It’s my pleasure. And looking after Adrien is quite literally my job.”

“It was mine too. But  _ caring _ for him isn’t.”

“Can we stop talking about me like I’m not in the room now?” Adrien asked. The two women laughed and Nathalie couldn’t help but be surprised – the boy she had raised was… blank. He didn’t have a personality and he was lonely. Now he made jokes and he was so clearly loved and… she was just so proud of him. 

“Of course,” Nathalie’s smile started to fade and she readied herself for the conversation ahead. “I wanted to talk with you. Both of you,” she started. “Felix called me two days ago and he asked me for a favour.”

At that, Marinette and Adrien shared a look. The couple had seen him just a few days ago. What had happened since then?

“He told me he saw you two a couple of days ago but that he hadn’t told you anything. So it’s time I explain. As of last night, Felix has been admitted to a hospital and he is refusing treatment.” 

“What?” Marinette asked. She was confused.

“As you both know, Gabriel refused to grant your deferral, so Felix and I talked,” she reached into her bag and pulled out a folder full of legal forms. “In the end, Felix drafted a will and I’ve made some amendments to it recently after he called me. I can’t tell you what’s in it yet or else you two could be accused of foul play, but he’s asked me to answer any other questions you might have. Most of all, he didn't want his passing to be a surprise to you two.”

Marinette gaped at her and Adrien reached for her hand instinctively. They were shaking… holding onto each other for support. Nathalie could see that they needed each other.

“A will?” Adrien’s voice was shaky. What was his original thinking? “Felix isn’t… no...”

Nathalie nodded. “It’s what he wants.”

Adrien stood abruptly. “That can’t be true,” he all but yelled. Marinette tugged at the back of his shirt, trying to get Adrien to sit back down but he stood over Nathalie, staring at her and daring her to confirm it.

“I wouldn’t lie about this,” Nathalie replied, her voice still measured and calm. Adrien wondered how anyone could be so calm talking about this. She turned to Marinette and continued. “Gabriel will have been alerted to Felix’s admittance to the hospital by now. I don’t think he knows about the will yet but he will find that out soon too.”

“We just saw him a few days ago,” Adrien shook his head. He had… found a connection to Felix. He thought they understood each other. He looked at Nathalie. Hadn’t she been the one who told him all those years ago? ‘ _ This is who you are going to save. _ ’ Had all that been for nothing?

“What’s going to happen?” Marinette asked as Adrien’s thoughts spiraled. She didn’t let go of him. 

“That pertains to the contents of the will. I can’t answer that. Not yet. But I’ll be there to guide you both through the legalities of it. I just wanted to give you a heads up to give you a chance to… prepare yourselves.”

“Felix can’t die,” Adrien said. “Not for this...”

Nathalie reached for Adrien. She looked him in the eyes, “Felix has his reasons. He’s thought about this for a long time,” she reassured him, choosing her words carefully. When he didn’t react, Nathalie stood and hugged him again while Marinette took in everything Nathalie had told them. As Nathalie tried to help Adrien process all this, Marinette couldn’t stop wondering what this meant for them.

 

* * *

 

Bridgette rapped her knuckles against the door before she entered. Visiting hours were nearly over but she wanted to see Felix before the hospital closed up for the night. He turned to her, a tired look on his face. He looked drained and pale.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“I’m being transferred to the hospice unit. Apparently, refusing treatment means I can’t stay in palliative,” Felix muttered. Bridgette nodded, taking a seat next to him. “Good news though, I convinced the nurses to not tell father I was here until a few days from now.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I can be very charming,” he joked. Bridgette rolled her eyes at him. Felix was often reserved but she found he had a humor about him too. She brought out a box of sweets for him and opened it. He took a canelé and savoured it. The smile on his face put her at ease. She wanted him to be happy and to enjoy as much good food as he could before…

Well,  _ before. _

Felix noted how the smiled fell Bridgette’s face. “Have you talked to Marinette?” He asked as he picked up a second one. Her train of thought interrupted, Bridgette nodded.

“She left a message on my voicemail,” Bridgette said. “She and Adrien don’t agree with this.” Felix only shrugged. He had expected as much. “You can still back out. Before they move you to hospice you can tell a nurse –”

“Bridgette,” Felix warned. He cut her a sharp look. “This is what I want.”

Bridgette bit her lip, frowning. She didn’t want to argue with him now. “Okay. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thank you.” His face softened and she smiled back at him, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Can I ask you for one more favour?”

“Of course,” Bridgette replied. “Anything.”

He reached over to the bedside table and picked up a white envelope. The cardstock was thick and on one side it was embellished with the Agreste family symbol. Felix handed it to her and she turned it over in her hands. “After I… you know. Could you give that to my father?”

Bridgette nodded. “But why not Nathalie?”

Felix smiled sadly. “My family has asked for too much from her already… and besides, she’ll have other things she will be taking care of.” She didn’t really understand that response but she didn’t question him either. Instead, she obliged, putting the letter into her bag. When she faced him again, he took her hand in his. “Thank you. You’ve done so much for me.”

Bridgette blushed, taken aback by his sincerity. She stammered out a “you’re welcome” before a nurse came by, reminding Bridgette that visiting hours would be over in another few minutes. 

Felix looked up at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but he never did and Bridgette didn’t push him. The pair of them shared one last moment before she packed up her things and bid Felix goodbye with a quick hug and a lingering kiss on his cheek. When she slipped out of the room, she saw him smiling back at her, holding a hand to the spot she had kissed him.

 

* * *

 

Felix had been missing for over a week.

On the first day, Gabriel had flown into a rage, tearing apart the room he had so carefully constructed for Felix. He knocked over the medical equipment, and tore the sheets off the bed. He ripped the room apart and shattered monitors until he was completely hollowed out – until he found himself on the floor, sobbing for his son.

The second day, Gabriel considered drinking himself into oblivion. Instead, he did what he always did and threw himself into his work – except this time, he focused his mind on finding Felix. He used his connections to contact every hospital in the city. If Felix was admitted anywhere, he would be alerted immediately. By evening time, he had finished and went down to the Dupain-Cheng bakery himself, but there were no signs of Felix, just a happy couple closing up shop for the night. Gabriel casually questioned them, noting the absence of their daughter, but they only replied she had gone out to dinner with her friends from school.

By the third day, Gabriel had gone through Felix’s room for clues. He had reread the Dupain-Cheng file over a hundred times and reworked his theory in his head a million times. The Dupain-Chengs were barren. They sought the institute’s help. They received a daughter and a clone was sent to Francoise Dupont. Adrien was sent to Francoise Dupont. Sabine Dupain-Cheng found her lost daughter. They kept in touch all these years and they were now helping Adrien stay in touch with Felix. 

And yet he still couldn’t find his son. 

Gabriel kept an eye out on the hospitals in case Felix tried to admit himself under a false name. He kept tabs on the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie too but there was no such luck. Gabriel contacted carer centres and hospices. He called in favours from long ago and used every connection at his disposal.

All the while, thoughts of Angeline haunted him. He had failed her but he  _ would not _ fail Felix. He could not fathom it. After the third day, Gabriel had exhausted himself. He fluctuated between days of scouring the city and periods when he collapsed from the strain of it all. More than once, he would wake up after having fallen asleep at his desk, neck and shoulders sore – groggy and unable to make sense of his surroundings. Instead of giving himself the rest he so desperately needed, he would resume his search. 

Rationally, he knew that he needed to rest. He understood that he wasn’t thinking straight and that the exhaustion hindered him. He would miss obvious details or call the same person twice. He would zone out for hours, unaware of the passage of time. In other moments, he would be manic, mind racing through a million thoughts a second but unable to hold on and complete a single one. But when he came close to it… when he finally convinced himself to catch a few hours’ rest he would imagine sleeping through a call that would have tipped him off to where Felix was. He’d imagine Angeline on her deathbed. The very idea that he would be wasting time spurred him on instead.

Truly, Gabriel Agreste was a man driven by his fears.

 

* * *

 

Nathalie drove them to the hospital Felix had been admitted to. She knew he didn’t have much longer and she knew that Marinette and Adrien would want to say goodbye. When they got to his room, they found that Bridgette had already arrived and was sitting at Felix’s bedside. As Adrien circled the bed and sat on Felix’s other side, Nathalie marvelled at all the similarities and differences between the boys. Seeing the two of them together was so strange – not least because Adrien looked healthy and Felix was dying. 

When Nathalie looked away, she saw that Marinette was looking away from the scene too. “Go on,” she encouraged the girl. “Go talk to Felix. I’m going to get the doctor.” She nudged Marinette forward before leaving the room.

 

* * *

 

The doctor stands to the side while Felix looks around at his closest friends. He couldn’t speak with the oxygen mask on but he smiled at them. Adrien kept asking him  _ why _ but all Felix would do was take the other boy's hand in his and gave him a squeeze. He hoped everything would work out. He hoped Bridgette would find a way to get the letter to his father. He hope his father would read it.

When he was ready, the doctor turned a dial, filling the mask with something other than oxygen. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep for the last time. 

The doctor left the room to give the group a moment of privacy. 

Felix was unconscious now but the steady rhythm of the heart monitor told them all he was still here. They all spoke to Felix. They talked to him as if he were still here. Marinette remembers from one of her donors telling her that the last sense to go before one completed was one’s sense of hearing and she wondered if that were true. 

Could Felix hear them? Could he hear how Adrien telling him he was supposed to have saved him and asking him over and over again  _ why?  _ Could he hear Bridgette crying softly while she whispered in his ear? What would he say if he could speak? Did he know she was there when she couldn’t bring herself to say a word? 

Forget speaking to him, Marinette couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. He looked too much like Adrien. Her mind filled in the differences and she saw Adrien on his deathbed instead. It was an image she fought against and pushed from her mind. Marinette stood behind Adrien and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him as he cried. 

Bridgette held Felix’s hand, stroking the back of it gently. The tone of the heart monitor slowed…

 

* * *

 

Felix was dreaming. He dreamt that Bridgette was with him, holding his hand. She whispered comforting words to him though he didn’t know why. He didn’t feel any pain. He didn’t feel sick. He felt… good. Healthy, even.

His mother appeared in the distance. He wanted to go to her but the moment he turned away Bridgette disappeared – replaced by his father. While Bridgette’s touch had been tender, his father held onto his wrist, steadfast and unwilling to let Felix leave him.

Felix fought against him but it was no use – it was only when Adrien appeared and took his place that Felix was freed. He wanted to go back and help Adrien, to free him as well, but he couldn’t. He drifted away, farther and farther – closer to Angeline and closer to the light.

 

* * *

 

There was a commotion in the halls. Bridgette stood, wiping away her tears and left Marinette and Adrien with Felix to find out what was going on. A second, later Bridgette came running back, frantic and scared – before she could warn them, Gabriel burst into the room. 

Adrien and Marinette had jumped back, stunned. They retreated to the far end of the room. Marinette held Adrien as he shook in her arms. But he didn’t notice them at all. He looked devastated as he walked forward and collapsed at Felix’s bedside. He held his son, crying and begging for him to change his mind. 

But Felix wouldn’t move or speak another word again. Marinette stared in disbelief. She had never seen Gabriel Agreste before, but even in his grief he had an air about him – it was intimidating and stifling and it filled her with apprehension. She watched this man who had ruined her world as his own world fell apart. As he spoke to his son, she wondered if Felix could hear him too and what he would say to his father. 

The heart monitor slowed even more… Felix flatlined. 

Adrien couldn’t hold back the sob that wracked through him. He clung to Marinette as he choked on his tears, gasping and crying and wanting so much to hold onto Felix again – to just share another moment with his original but everything inside him was screaming to get away. Leave this room. Leave the hospital. Run and never look back.

Panic seized him as Gabriel rose to his feet. Adrien felt the walls closing in on him and his skin prickling with fear. Gabriel’s eyes pierced him and Adrien couldn’t turn away. The man standing before him is the devil – the fucking devil.

It was so surreal yet immediate. Adrien wouldn’t know how to describe the sensation of coming face-to-face with the person he hated most in the world. The edges of his vision blurred with - what? Fear? Anger? Guilt? Grief?

"You." Gabriel's voice was cold, hostile even, but it broke. "This is your fault." 

Adrien folded in on himself. He was a little boy again, stuck in a white room, unloved and scared. Even with Marinette holding him he was terrified. This was the man who had tortured and abused him, and to this day, Gabriel still haunted his dreams. 

"You did this. You did this to my son!" He yelled, and that’s when Adrien notices Gabriel’s red rimmed eyes and gaunt face. His messy hair and disheveled state. 

“I’m sorry" Adrien’s voice is reduced to a whisper. Guilt ate away at him from the inside. His only purpose in life had been to keep Felix alive and he couldn’t even do that much. Gabriel took a step forward and Adrien flinched.

"He thought he could save you,” Gabriel said. He hadn’t heard Adrien’s apology. He took another step and Marinette moved to shield Adrien from him. 

But the man was crazed. Gabriel lunged forward, grabbing Adrien’s arm and pulling him forward. He was ripped from Marinette’s arms and Adrien froze as Gabriel brought his face closer. This was the first time Gabriel had touched his creation – had come face to face with him – in over a decade and Adrien couldn’t breath. He couldn’t pull himself away. He could not break Gabriel's hold on him.  

A spike of panic coursed through Adrien. He remembered something like this happening long ago. He remembered… those tests, the pain. He remembered asking why it all hurt so much, and he remembered the answer.  

_ “What does it matter?” The harsh look, the white walls. The queasiness in the pit of his stomach. The extraction of a needle. “Understand, boy, your pain does not matter.” _

All Adrien could think about was how he needed to get away, to run back to his childhood at Francoise Dupont, the only refuge he ever had. He didn’t want this. He never wanted it. He never asked for this life. “Do you think you can escape? It’s useless,” Gabriel’s words come out in a snarl, spit landing on Adrien’s face. “I will  _ never  _ let you go _. _ ” 

Marinette pushed Gabriel away from him and his hold on Adrien broke. Adrien collapsed on the floor, stunned but coming back to himself, even if only a little. His chest was heaving as he tried hard to breath. As the fear rose in him, so did the confusion. He looked back and forth between Gabriel and Marinette. 

The man glared at Marinette, fury in his eyes and she panicked. She hadn’t thought about what she was doing, she only knew she had to get Adrien away from Gabriel. But he recovered quickly, standing to his full height to tower over the clones. A shiver passed through Adrien and Marinette.

"The audacity –" 

Bridgette returned to the room in that moment accompanied by Nathalie. Marinette shot her sister a grateful look. She hadn’t even realized she had gone to get help. 

“Gabriel,” Nathalie’s voice was cool but stern. She surveyed the room and its occupants. “Bullying is beneath you.” Adrien stared up at her, child-like in his confusion but utterly awestruck. She glanced at him, her eyes softening for a mere second before her attention shifted to Gabriel again.. 

The man spun around. The goodwill they had parted with was forgotten, and he saw red when he faced her. “You masterminded this,” he accused. She said nothing in return. “You talked Felix into suicide. I could have you arrested.”

Calmly, Nathalie instructed Bridgette to get the doctor and she dashed out of the room. “Gabriel, think about what you’re doing.”

“I lost everything because of you!” he yelled. Nathalie flinched but she didn’t let her fear show. 

“We can talk about this when you’ve… grieved.”

Her placating tone only further incited his anger. “You think this piece of garbage is worth more than my son!” He pointed at Adrien and the boy flinched. Adrien curled in on himself and Marinette stepped in front of him, shielding him from the direct force of Gabriel’s wrath as he turned and faced the clones. “You will never be free. I will take  _ everything  _ from you.” He turned away from them as the doctor and nurses entered the room and pushed past the medical personnel, leaving. 

Marinette went to Adrien’s side, holding his face in her hands, speaking to him softly and rubbing circles into his back but he didn’t register any of it. Adrien couldn’t stop shaking and he has to force himself to take deep breaths. He couldn’t get the image of absolute fury on Gabriel’s face out of his mind.  _ ‘I will never let you go _ , _ ’  _ the words kept replaying in his head over and over and he choked on a sob. 

He’s on the verge of another attack and when he looks over at Felix he sees himself lying there instead. Adrien thought he was used to people completing by now. He thought he could handle it after Chloe and Alya, but seeing Felix’s passing evoked a new kind of grief. He had only known him briefly, but their lives have been so intertwined. They were two sides of the same coin and this was like losing a part of himself. Fresh tears fell from his eyes and he crawled towards Felix, reaching for his original’s hand. He’s sobbing at how peaceful Felix looked. If it weren’t for his pallid colour, Adrien would think Felix was only sleeping. 

The doctor cleared his throat, “Madame Sancoeur,” he said, “we cannot proceed.”

Marinette turned to Nathalie. “What’s he talking about?”

Nathalie ignored the question and knelt next to Adrien, her voice soft, “come on, Adrien. It’s time to go.” 

“His hand is still warm,” Adrien wept. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to shake Felix awake. He wanted to talk to the other boy more and get to know him – this other half of him. “I know, Adrien, I know,” she pulled Adrien into a hug and he cried against her. “I couldn’t save him,” Adrien wept. “I couldn’t save that family.” His voice broke and he closed his eyes as more tears came. 

It should be him lying there. Not Felix. 

Over his shoulder, Nathalie nodded to the doctor and she slowly stood, guiding Adrien out of the room. He was only vaguely aware that someone had pulled Felix’s hand from his as Nathalie led him out of the room.

 

* * *

 

“Nathalie, what was the doctor talking about?” Marinette pressed. Felix had passed. Why were there doctors in his room? 

“Now is not the time,” she replied, leading Marinette and Bridgette out into the hallway. 

“Let’s go back to the boulangerie,” Bridgette suggested, wiping her eyes again. “We can talk about it when we get there.”

Nathalie glanced at Adrien and shook her head. “No… I think we should go home for now. We can talk about this tomorrow after we’ve all had a chance to grieve,” she said.

Marinette let out a frustrated sound, tired of waiting all the time but she resigned and nodded too. Adrien was in no state to talk and she needed to look after him. 

Bridgette drove them back to their hospital while Nathalie went home to start planning the funeral. As they sat in Bridgette’s car, Marinette comforted Adrien. He had buried his face in his hands, crying softly. She hadn’t realized how affected Adrien would be by Felix’s passing and she wondered how she would feel if it had been Bridgette. Marinette glanced at her sister, observing her through the rearview mirror. Her eyes were red rimmed and her face puffy. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry and Marinette’s chest clenched at the sight of her. The two of them had gotten so close over the last few months, becoming integral parts of each other’s lives. She couldn’t imagine life without her now. 

Marinette turned her attention back to Adrien and gave his shoulder a squeeze. He looked up at her with teary eyes. He looked so shaken… so wilted. She kissed his cheek, and pulled him over to rest his head on her shoulder. Bridgette glanced at them through the rear view mirror before turning her eyes back on the road.

 

* * *

 

Nathalie didn’t like how practiced she was at keeping secrets for and from the Agreste family. It was second nature to her to cover things up and to improvise a fib or two all in the interest of keeping their lives in a precarious balance. In this particular case, she hadn’t lied per se to Marinette. She simply stalled for time. After two decades of keeping secrets, Nathalie had learned that sometimes it wasn’t the truth that mattered, but  _ when _ the truth was unveiled. 

Nathalie briefly considered going home, but she couldn’t let Gabriel get away with his behaviour. She knew he was devastated but that was no way to react. He shouldn’t have lashed out at Adrien the way he did. Even when Angeline had passed away, he hadn’t been so vitriolic...

The pit of Nathalie’s stomach hollowed out as she realized that his behaviour back then had been just as destructive. He had all but imprisoned Felix in their home and he became distant and cold and she had allowed him to become that way – enabled it even. She sighed. She knew he wasn’t her responsibility. He was a grown man and she believed that deep down, Gabriel knew he was wrong. Even when their project first started, when Adrien was still young, Gabriel had felt guilty.

_ “I’ve miscalculated, Nathalie. I didn’t think he could feel.” _

That was proof, right? Yet if memory served her correctly, Gabriel had reacted badly back then, treated Adrien – only a child at the time – with too much force and gruffness. Nathalie sighed. She wanted to believe he was a good man and that there was something inside him that she could reason with. 

She arrived at the mansion and entered the code to unlock the gate. It worried her that Gabriel had not bothered to change it but she didn’t dwell on that thought. She parked her car and went up to the mansion. She went through the front lobby, up the stairs to the left and down the hall. The left wing of the house was where Gabriel’s office was and she knew he would be there.

Nathalie didn’t bother to knock, she simply walked into the office. While the rest of the mansion had been as impeccably clean as it always was, the office was a mess. Books had been pulled off of the shelves that lined the walls. The photograph Gabriel kept of his family had fallen from his desk, the frame shattered and broken. Papers were everywhere and she entered just as Gabriel slammed his fists down on the heavy oak desk. Nathalie flinched. This was the first time she had seen him so physically enraged. 

He turned to her the moment she stepped into the room. Nathalie swallowed hard, bracing herself for violence – but a closer look told her that he wasn’t as angry as she initially made him out to be. His eyes were red and his lips were set in a deep frown but the way his brow was furrowed spoke of sadness more than anger. He was shaking so much and though he had frightened her, he was the first to look away. A sob escaped him and he looked angry at himself for not being able to hold it in.

“What do you want?” he asked her. 

“The way you spoke to Adrien, it wasn’t right.” He shot her a glare as she stepped closer into the room. “Why would you threaten him? What good could that have possibly done for you?”

“He’s the entire reason Felix is gone,” Gabriel’s voice broke on his son’s name but there was an unmistakably bitter tone in his voice.

Nathalie shook her head. “He’s the reason why Felix lived for as long as he did. Did you forget everything we put that boy through? Did you forget all the blood you took and how much he suffered? He felt  _ pain, _ Gabriel. He’s as human as you and I,” she said. She remembered all those times she held Adrien as he cried. She remembered talking him down from a panic attack and caring for him. She thought of how he was finally loved and happy and how it would all be taken from him. She had raised him like he was her own son. Gabriel himself had acknowledged that. “He’s as human as Felix. Your son understood that. Why can’t you?”

“Human?” Gabriel’s expression changed and Nathalie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she sensed the shift. “What does that matter to me?” Gabriel yelled. He swiped his arm across his desk and the lamp fell to the floor with a crash, glass shattering on the wood floor. “Why should I care?!”

She gasped, her eyes widening and she clenched her fists as white rage built in her. It struck Nathalie then that this was never a question of humanity to Gabriel. It wasn't even a question of furthering human kind and extending life. To him, it was just a question of what benefitted him and keeping his family alive. The rest of the world could burn for all he cared. 

And though she understood that he was grieving and irrational, knew that he was suffering, knew that he loved his family, his actions had been inexcusable. She couldn’t comprehend his level of selfishness and she was through making excuses for him. 

“You’re a monster,” she murmured. “No wonder Felix and Angeline hid themselves from you.”

“What?” fury built up inside him and his eyes fell on her once more. This time, she wanted to look away but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“You only think about what you want. You don't care about anyone else, not even your family.”

“I did  _ everything _ for them.”

“No, you did it for yourself. I know you tried to save Felix because you love him, but that love didn’t come from compassion. It was possession. You can’t stand your loneliness and when Felix came to this decision himself, you couldn’t accept it. He wanted to die long before Adrien ever came along.” She said. 

“You're lying.”

“Angeline too.” His eyes widened as she spoke her name. “This is why she asked me to hide her diagnosis from you. She knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. She knew you wouldn’t be able to accept it.”

“YOU’RE LYING!”

“It’s the truth! She wanted to die,” Nathalie screamed. Her throat felt raw. Two decades of secrets spilled forth from her, angry tears falling from her eyes and blurring her vision. “Do you know what she said when she told me she was dying? She said she needed to tell someone, but that she couldn’t tell  _ you _ .”

Gabriel was shaking his head, he refused to believe her. He spoke over her, denying it.

“She couldn’t tell her own husband. And you were willing to  _ lie  _ to her! You were going to let her think you were having an affair. You were willing to risk her love for you,” she shouted. 

“So that I could save my son!” Gabriel yelled, he was crying too, frustrated and broken but Nathalie felt no sympathy for him. 

“You still don’t get it Gabriel, they didn’t want to be saved!” Nathalie countered. “They wanted to live. They never had a chance at recovery. They just wanted to live their lives but you wanted to keep them locked up in your mansion! That’s not living. It’s barely existing!”

He had no counter. What could he say when she threw the truth so boldly in his face? At the hospital, Nathalie had been disappointed and angry at him. He had been a bully and now she saw Gabriel for what he really was. A defeated man who couldn’t accept it. He was delusional and desperate and selfish. She had wanted to believe that he was a good man. She wanted to believe he was the same person her best friend had fallen in love with, but evidently he had changed. Nathalie narrowed her eyes at him.

“You know what? I’ve been living with this guilt for over a decade but it turns out I was right all along.” She fumed, no longer keeping her anger in check. To hell with his feelings. She had done enough for this man and she was through with him. “I was the one who told the reporter about Adrien.” A weight she had been carrying lifted from her. “I did it so that they would take him away from you and so that Angeline could be happy.”

Nathalie stood to her full height, staring back at him. She wasn’t scared or indebted to him anymore. He was a self-serving monster who used people up. The look of indignation he shot back at her only fuelled her anger and she let her rage build. She pointed at him, her finger jabbing him in the centre of his chest, and she leaned in close. He needed to hear her next words. Even though she doubted he would ever understand, she needed to tell him. 

“I did it because when you love someone, you put their happiness first, you _selfish, inconsiderate_ _ prick. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NATHALIE IS THE REAL MVP. Also, I think we're in the clear now? I mean, the following chapters will reference sad things but there won't be anymore major events. Whoop!
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated. Hit me up on [tumblr](http://landofoz.tumblr.com/)


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